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7.  J^czcrdfi^zu^c^  j-cj^ 


THE 


MERCHANT 


i?0  F 


1-  'im 


V  E  NIC  E. 


By  Mr.  William  Shakespear. 


/3 


LONDON; 

Printed  for  J.  T  o  N  s  o  N,   and  the  reft  of  the 
P  R  o  p  R  I E  T  o  R  s  i  and  fold  by  the  Bookfellers 
of  London  and  IVeftmittfler. 

MDCCXXXlvr 


Dramatis  Perfon^, 


^2)  t/X  £  Venice. 

Morochius,  «  Moorifh  Prince.     1     *  f 
^  .       -  ^  '     >Suuers  to  Portia. 

Irince  of  Arragon,  3 

Anthonio,  the  Merchant  of  Venice. 

Baffanio,  hh  Friend,  in  love  with  Portia. 

Salanio,   ^  " 

Solarino,  i  Friends  to  Anthonio  and  Baflanio. 

Gratiario,  J  ^ 

Loren2.o,  in  love  viVA  j^ica. 

Shylock,  a  Jew. 

Tubal,  a  Jew,  his  Friend, 

L^uncclot,  a  Clov^n^  Servant  to  the  Jew. 

Gobbo,  an  old  Man,  Father  to  Launcelot. 

Portia,  an  Helrefs  of  great  ^alUy  and  Fortune. 

NcrifTa,  Corifide^t'to*?qsti^...  .    ,  . 

Jeflica,  Dau^htH  ttr  §ljy{orJii.; . .  f  ,^  ;  :    :  >  T  ;  ;  • 


Senators  r/*  Venice,  oj^cefs,' Servants' tY  Torihy  and 
: /:  y^hfr*  *4t^tii4ia9tf^ .  ^  ...... 

•  .  ••  .  j    .  ; . 

SCENE  partly  at  Venice,  and  partly 
at  Belmont,  the  Seat  of  Portia 
upQfi  the  Cmtinent* 


THE 


Merchant  Venice. 


ACT  I.    SCENE  I. 

Enter  Anthonio,  Solarino,  and  Salanio. 

A  K  T  H  O  N  I  O. 

;N  footh  I  know  not  why  I  am  fo  fad^. 
Ic  wearies  me  j  you  fay  it  wearies  you'; 
But  how  I  caught  it,  found  it,  or  came  by 
it, 

What  (luff  'tis  made  of.  whereof  it  is  born, 
I  am  to  learn 

And  fuch  a  want-wit  fadncfs  makes  of  me. 
That  I  have  much  ado  to  know  my  felf. 

Sal,  Your  mind  is  toffingoa  the  ocean 
There  where  your  *  Argofieswith  portly  fail, 
Like  figniers  and  rich  burghers  on  the  floc^. 
Or  as  it  were  the  pageants  of  the  fea. 
Do  over^pecr  the  f  petty  traffickers 
That curiie  to  them,  dothem  reverence, 
As  they  fly  by  them  with  th^ir  woven  wings. 

Sola,  Believe  me,  Sir,  had  1  fuch  venture  forth. 
The  better  part  of  my  affedions  would 
Be  with  my  hopes  |)  aboard.    I  Hiould  be  ftill 
Plucking  the  grafs,  to  know  where  firs  rhc  wind, 
Prying  in  maps  for  ports,  and  peers,  and  roads  j 
And  every  objeft  that  might  make  m^fcar 

A  ^  Mif. 
*Argofic,  a  Shtf,  from  Argo.    -f  ;r#//y.    ||  airtaJ. 


4       The  Merchant  ofYcmcc. 

Misfortune  to  my  ventures,  out  of  doubt 
Would  make  me  fad. 

Sd.  My  wind  cooling  my  broth 
Would  blow  me  to  an  ague,  when  I  thought 
V/hat  harm  a  wind  too  great  might  do  at  iea. 
I  fhould  not  fee  the  fandy  hour-glafs  run, 
But  I  fliould  think  of  Oiallows  and  of  flats. 
And  fee  my  wealthy  Andrew  dockM  in  fand, 
Vailing  her  high  top  lower  than  her  ribs, 
To  kifs  her  buria'.    Should  I  go  to  church 
And  fee  the  holy  edifice  of  ftone. 
And  not  bethink  me  ftrait  of  dang'rous  rocks  ? 
Which  touching  but  my  gentle  veffePs  fide. 
Would  fcatter  all  the  fpices  on  the  ftream. 
Enrobe  the  roaring  waters  with  my  filks, 
And  in  a  word,  but  even  now  worth  thi?, 
And  now  worth  nothing.    Shall  I  have  the  thought 
To  think  on  this,  and  fhall  I  lack  the  thought, 
That  fuch  a  thing  bechanc*d  would  make  me  fad  ? 
But  tell  not  me,  I  know  A7ithonio 
k  fad  to  think  upon  his  merchandize. 

Anth,  Believe  me,  no:  I  thank  my  fortune  for  it,  - 
My  ventures  are  not  in  one  bottom  trufted. 
Nor  to  one  place    nor  is  my  whole  eftate 
Upon  the  fortune  of  this  prefent  year  5 
Therefore  my  merchandize  makes  me  not  fad. 

SoU.  Why  then  you  are  in  love, 

Anth,  Fie,  fie. 

Sola.  Not  in  love  neither  I  then  let's  fay  you're  fad, 
Becaule  you  are  not  merry  ;  'twere  as  cafy 
For  you  to  laugh  and  leap,  and  fiy  you're  merry, 
Becaufe  you^arenot  fad.    Now  by  two-headed  JanuSs 
Nature  hathfram'd  ftrangc  fellows  in  her  time: 
Some  that  will  evermore  peep  through  their  eyes, 
And  laugh  liks  parrots  at  a  bag-piper  j 
And  others  of  fuch  vinegar  afpe(f>, 
That  they'll  not  fliow  their  teeth  in  way  of  fmile, 
Though  Nejhr  iWcarthe  jcft  be  laughable. 

Eriter  Baffanio,  Lorenzo  Gratiano. 

Sal.  Here  comes  Bajfanio,  your  mod  noble  kinto^fl  | 
Mrat'iano  and  Ursnzo ;  fare  ye  well ; 

Wf 


The  Merchant  of  Venice.  5 


We  leave  ye  now  vvi-h  better  company. 

Soln.  I  would  have  ftaid 'nil  I  had  made  you  merry, 
If  worthier  friends  had  nor  prevented  me. 

Anth.  Your  worth  is  very  dear  in  my  regard  : 
I  take  it  your  own  bafinefs  calls  on  you, 
And  you  embrace  th'  occifion  to  depart. 

Sal.  Good  morrow,  my  good  lords. 

^^ff'  Good  Sigaiors  bo:h,  when  fliall  we  laugh  ? 
fay  when  ? 

You  grow  exceedmg  flTange  \  mud  it  be  fo  ? 
Sal.  We'll  make  our  icil'ures  to  attend  on  yours. 
Sola.  My  lord  Bajfamo,  Imce  you've    found  An^ 
thonio. 

We  two  wiil leave  you  5  but  ar  dinner-time, 
I  pray  you  have  in  mind  where  we  muft  mew-t. 

Bajf. ']  vviil  not  fail  you.       \^ExeHnt  Solar.  arntSAi. 

Gra.  You  look  not  w.Ti,  S'guior  AKthoyjioi 
You  have  too  much  refpccfl  upon  the  world  ; 
They  loleit,  that  do  buy  ic  with  much  care. 
Believe  me,  you  are  mdrvelloufly  changed. 

Jnth.  I  hold  the  world  but  as  the  wo.Hd,  Grati^nCi 
A  ftage  where  every  one  muft  play  his  pare. 
And  mine  a  fad  one. 

Gra.  Let  me  play  the  fool 
With  mirth  and  laughter  j  let  old  wrinkles  come, 
And  let  my  liver  raclier  heat  with  win?, 
Than  my  hf^art  cool  with  monifying  groans. 
Why  fliould  a  man,  whofe  blood  is  warm  within. 
Sit  like  his  grand  fire  cut  in  Alabafler  ? 
Sleep  when  he  wakes,  and  creep  inio  the  jaundice 
By  being  peevifh  ^  I  tell  thee  what,  Anthonio, 
(Hove  thee,  and  'cis  my  love  that  fpeaks :) 
There  are  a  fort  of  men,  whofe  vilages 
Do  cream  and  rnantlelikca  ftanding  pond» 
And  do  a  wii;ul  ftilncfs  entertain, 
Wirh  pu!  p  >fe  r  >  be  dreftin  an  opinion 
Of  wifdoir.  gravity,  profouni  conceit. 
As  who  fnouM  fay,  lam  Sir  Oracle, 
And  whtr  '  upe  my  lip.^  let  no  dog  bark  !  ' 
O  rny  Anthonio,  1  d.  know  of  thofe, 
That  thcrcforconly  ate  reputed  wife, 

A  J  For 


6       The  Merchant  af  Venice. 


For  laying  nothing ;  who  Fm  very  fure. 

If  they  ihould  fpcak,  vyould  al ni oft  *  damn  thof:;  car% 

"Which  hearing  them,  would  call  their  brothers  fools. 

ril  tell  thee  more  of  this  another  time  : 

But  firti  not  with  this  melancholy  bait, 

For  this  fool*s  gudgeon,  this  Opinion. 

Come  good  torenz.0,  fare  ye  well  a  while, 

ril  end  my  exhortation  afcer  dinner. 

Lor,  Well,  we  will  leave  you  then^ill  dinner  time. 
I  muft  be  one  of  thefc  faniedumb  wife  menj 
For  QratifinD  never  lets  me  fpeak. 

Gra*  Well,  keep  me  company  but  two  years  more. 
Thou  fhalt  not  know  the  found  of  rhine  own  tongue,.^ 

Anth.  F^ireweli  j  111  grow  a  talker  for"  this  gear. 

Cra,  Thanks i'faith  i  for  filcnce  is  only  commendable 
In  a  neat's  tongue  dxy'd,  and  a  maid  not  vendible. 

jinth.  Is  that  any  thing  now  ? 

Bajf,  Gratiano  fpeaks  an  infinite  deal  of  nothing, 
more  than  any  man  in  all  Venice  :  his  reafons  are  as 
two  gia  nsof  wheat  hid  in  two  bufhelsot  chaff  j  yoa 
fhall  Ifek  all  day  ere  you  find  them,  and  when  yoa 
have  rhem,  they  are  not  worth  thcfearch. 

Anth.  Well  i  tell  me  now  what  lady  is  the  fame 
To  whom  you  fworea  fecrct  pilgrimage. 
That  you  to-day  promised  to  tell  me  of? 

Bfjf,  'Tis  not  unknown  ro  you,  Anthonh. 
How  much  I  have  difab'ed  mine  eftare, 
By  (hewing  fomething  a  more  fv^'elling  port 
Than  my  taint  means  v/ou!d  grant  continuance  j 
Nor  do  I  now  make  moan  to  be  abrigd'd 
From  fuch  a.nobierate  J  but  my  chief  care 
Is  to  come  fairly  off  from  the  great  debts 
Wherein  n-y  time,  fomething  too  prodigal, 
Hath  left  me  gag  d  5  to  you,  Anthonio, 
I  owe  the  moft  in  money,  and  in  love, 
And  from  your  love  1  have  a  warranty 

T' 

*  daunt,  and  damm.  In  other  edhhns.  If  alludes  Pc  the 
faying  in  Sf.  Matth.  v.  ii.  Whoever  ft  all  fay  to  his  bro- 
ther, Thou  fool,  lhall  be  in  danger  of  Hell-fire. 


The  Merchant  of  Venice.  7 


unburthcn  all  my  plors  and  purpofrs, 
How  to  gcc  clear  of  all  the  debrs  I  owe. 

Anth.  I  pray  you  good  Bajftnio  let  me  know  it, 
And  if  it  fland  as  you  yourfeif  ftill  do. 
Within  the  eye  of  honour,  be  afTur'd 
My  purfc,  my  perfon,  my  extreamcft  means 
Lie  all  unlock'd  to  your  occafions. 

Bajf.  In  my  fchool-days,  when  T  had  loft  one  fliaft, 
I  fboc  his  fellow  of  the  felf-fame  flight 
The  ftlf-fime  way,  wirh  more  advifed  warch, 
To  find  the  other  forth  i  by  ventVing  both, 
I  ofc  found  both.    I  urge  this  child-hood  proof, 
Becaufe  what  follows  is  pare  innocence. 
I  owe  you  much,  and  like  a  wilful  yourh. 
That  which  I  owe  is  lod  j  but  if  you  plcafs 
To  ihoot  another  arrow  that  felf  way 
Which  you  did  fhoot  the  fir  ft,  I  do  not  doubt, 
A;  I  will  Wdtch  the  aim,  or  to  find  borh, 
Or  bring  your  latter  hazard  back  again, 
And  thankfully  reft  debtor  for  the  firft. 

Anth,  You  know  me  well,  and  herein  /pend  but 
time 

To  wind  about  my  love  with  circumftance: 
And  out  of  doubt  you  do  me  now  more  wrong, 
in  making  queftion  of  my  uttermoft, 
Than  if  you  had  made  wafte  of  all  I  have. 
Then  do  but  fay  to  me,  what  I  fliould  do. 
That  in  your  knowledge  may  by  me  be  done, 
And  I  am  preft  unto  it :  therefore  fpcak, 

Bajf,  In  Belmont  is  a  lady  richly  left, 
And  fhe  is  fair,  and  fairer  than  that  word. 
Of  wond'rous  virtues  j  fomcrimes  from  her  eye* 
I  did  receive  fair  fpeechlcfs  meflages ; 
Her  name  is  Portia,  nothing  undervalu'd  f 
To  Cato's  daughter,  Brutus*  Fort  la : 
Nor  is  the  wide  world  ign'rant  of  her  worth  ; 
For  the  four  winds  blow  in  from  every  coaft 
Renowned  fuitorsj  and  her  funny  locks 
Hang  on  her  temples  like  a  golden  fleece, 
Which  makes  her  feat  of  Belmont,  Cbolchoi*  flronJ, 
And  many  Jafons  come  in  queft  of  her. 

A  4s  O 


S        27?^  Merchant  of  Venice. 

0  my  AnthoniOi  had  I  but  the  means 
To  hold  a  rival-plaee  with  oneof  them, 

1  have  a  mind  prefages  mcfuch  f  thrift. 
That  I  fliould  qaeftionleis  be  fortunate. 

Anth.  Thoukrjow'ft  that  all  my  fortunes  are  at  fea^^ 
Kor  hjvcl  mony,  nor  commodity 
To  raife  a  prefent  fum  i  therefore  go  forth, 
Try  v^hat  my  credit  can  mVenice  do  ^ 
That  n^ali  berack'd  even  to  the  uttermoft, 
Tofurnini  thee  to  Belmont  to  fair  Portia  : 
Go  prekntly  enquire,  and  fo  will  I, 
Where  mony  is,  and  I  noqueflion  make 
Tofaaveofitmy  truft,  or  for  my  fake.  lExeunt* 

SCENE    II.  Belmont. 

Three  Caskets  are  fet  cuty  one  of  gold,  another 
offilver,  and  another  of  lead, 

EfJter  Portia  and  Nerifla. 

Tcr,  By  my  troth,  Nerrjfa,  my  litcle  body  is  weary 
©f  '.his  g;tai:  v/orld. 

Ntr.  You  would  be,  fv^''eet  madam,  if  your  mifc- 
ries  were  in  the  fame  abundance  as  your  good  tor- 
tunes  are  5  and  yet,  for  aught  I  fee,  they  areas  fick 
that  furfeit  wich  too  much,  as  they  that  ftarve  with 
Jnotliing  ;  therefore  it  is  no  fmall  happincfs  to  be  fcat- 
cd  in  the  mean  5  fuperfluity  comes  fooner  by  white 
hairs,  but  competency  lives  longer. 

Per.  Good  fcntences,  and  well  pronounc'd. 

Nor.  They  would  be  better  if  well  followed. 

Por.  If  to  do,  were  as  eafie  as  to  know  what  were 
good  to  do,  chappels  had  been  churches,  and  poor 
mens  cottages  Princes  palaces.  He  is  a  good  divine 
that  follows  his  own  inftrudlionsj  I  can  ealier  teach 
twenty  what  were  good  to  be  done,  than  to  be  one 
of  the  twenty  to  follow  my  own  teaching.  The  brain 
may  devife  laws  for  the  blood,  but  a  hot  temper  leaps 
o'er  a  cold  decree  j  fuch  a  hare  is  madnefsthe  youth, 
to  skip  o'er  the  mcfhes  of  good  counfel  the  cripple. 
But  this  *  reafoning  is  not  ia  falhion  to  chufe  me  a 

hus- 

f  thrift  ,f(Or  thriving.      ^  reafen. 


The  Merchant  of  Venice.  9 

husband  :  O  me,  the  word  chufe  !  I  may  never  chufe 
whom  I  would,  nor  rcfufe  whom  1  diflike,  fo  is  the 
will  of  a  living  daughter  curbed  by  the  will  of  a  dead 
father:  i$  it  not  hard,  Nerijfa,  that  I  cannot  chufe  one, 
nor  refufenone? 

Ner.  Your  father  was  ever  virtuous,  and  holy  men 
at  their  death  have  good  infptratiotis ;  therefore  the 
lottery  that  he  hath  devifed  in  thefe  three  chefts  of 
gold,  filver,  and  lead  fwhereof  who  chufes  his  mean- 
ing chufes  you)  will  no  doubt  never  be  chofen  by  any 
lightly,  but  one  whom  you  (hall  rightly  love.  But  what 
Warmth  is  there  fn  your  afFedlion  towards  any  of  thcfc 
princely  fuiters  that  are  already  come  ? 

Tor.  I  pray  thee  over-name  them,  and  as  thounam'ft 
them  I  will  dcfcribe  them,  and  according  to  my  de- 
fcription  level  at  my  affedion. 

Ner.  Firft  there  is  the  Neapolh/in  Prince. 
Tor.  Ay,  that's  a  colt  indeed,  for  he  doth  nothing 
but  talk  of  Ms  horfe,  and  he  makes  it  a  great  appro- 
priation to  his  own  good  parts  that  he  can  fl^oo  Mm 
himfelf i  1  am  much  afraid  my  lady  his  mother  play'd 
falfe  with  a  fmith. 

Ner,  Then  there  is  the  Count  Palatine, 
Tor,  He  doth  no  hing  but  frown,  as  who  fliould  (ay, 
if  you  will  not  have  mc,  chufe  :  he  hears  merry  talcs, 
and  fmiles  notj  I  fear  he  will  prove  the  weeping  phi- 
lofopher  when  he  grows  old,  being  fo  full  ot  un- 
mannerly fjdnefs  in  his  youth.  I  had  rather  be  mar- 
ried to  a  death's  head  with  a  bor.e  in  his  mouthy 
than  to  either  of  thefe.  God  defend  me  from  thtfc 
two. 

Ner,  How  fay  you  by  the  Trench  Lord,  Monficur 
Le  Bo;  n  I 

Tor.  God  made  him,  and  therefore  let  him  pafs  for 
a  man  \  in  truth  I  know  it  is  a  fin  to  be  a  mocker; 
but  he  !  why  he  harh  a  horfe  better  than  the  Neafoli^ 
tan's,,  a  better  bad  habit  of  frowning  than  the  Count 
TaUtine,  he  is  every  man  in  no  man;  if  a  ifithroHle 
fing,  he  Falls  firair  a  cspiring  :  he  will  fence  with  l.is 
pwn  fliadow  i  if  I  (hould  marry  him,  1  fliouM  marry 
A  s  twenty 


10     The  Merchnnt  of  Venice. 

twenty  husbands.  If  he  would  dcfpife  me,  I  would 
fqrgivc  him,  for  if  he  love  nie  to  madnefs,  I  fhould 
never  requite  him. 

2ver.  What  fay  you  then  to  FaulconirU^e,  the  young 
Baron  of  England  f 

For.  You  know  I  fay  nothing  to  him,  for  he  un- 
derllands  not  me,  nor  I  him  j  he  hath  neither  Latm, 
French^  nor  Ital':an,  and  you  may  come  into  the  court 
and  fwcar,  that  i  have  a  poor  pennyworth  in  the  Ew^- 
lijh.  He  IS  a  proper  man's  pidlure,  but  alas  I  who  can 
converfe  with  a  dumb  (how?  hovV  oddly  he  is  fuired! 
I  chink  he  bought  his  doublet  in  Italy^  his  round  hofc 
in  France,  his  bonnet  in  Germany^  and  his  behaviour 
every  where. 

Ner,  What  think  you  of  the  *  Scotttflo  lord  his  neigh- 
bour I 

Tor,  That  he  hath  a  neighbourly  charily  in  him, 
for  he  borrow'd  a  box  of  the  ear  of  the  EngUJlj-?nar?y 
aid  fwore  he  would  pay  him  again  when  he  was  able. 
I  think  the  French  man  became  his  furety,  and  feakd 
under  for  another, 

Ner.  How  like  you  the  young  German^  the  Duke  of 
Saxony's  nephew  ? 

For,  Very  vilely  in  the  mo'ning  when  he  is  fober, 
and  mod  vilely  in  the  afternoon  when  he  is  drunk  ; 
when  he  is  heft,  he  is  a  li'tle  worfe  than  a  man,  and 
whea  he  is  word,  he  is  little  better  than  a  teaftj  and 
the  worft  fall  that  ever  fell,  I  hope  I  fliail  make  (hifc 
to  go  without  him. 

Ker,  If  he  fliould  offer  to  chufe,  and  chufe  the  right 
casket,  you  (hou'd  refufe  to  perfc  rm  your  fither's  will, 
if  ycu  fliould  refufe  to  accept  him. 

Per.  Thercfoie  for  ftar  of  the  worft,  I  pray  th  e 
fet  a  deep  glafs  of  Rheni/h  wine  cn  the  contrary  c^^f- 
ket-  for  if  the  devil  be  within,  and  that  temptation 
v/i  hout,  1  know  he  will  chufe  it.  I  will  do  any  thing, 
Kerijfa,  e*er  I  will  be  marry'd  to  a  fpunge. 

jVer.  You  need  not  fear,  lady,  the  h  ;ving  any  of 
thefe  lords:  they  hive  acquainted  me  with  their  deter-- 
minations,  which  is  indeed  to  return  to  their  home, 
and  to  trouble  you  with  no  more  fuit,  unlefs  you  may 
•  ether,  be 


The  Merchant  of  Venice.     1 1 

be  won  by  fome  other  fort  than  your  father's  impo- 
Ticion,  depending  on  the  caskets. 

Tor,  If  I  live  to  be  as  old  as  Sibillc^^  I  will  die  as 
chafte  as  Bimni\  unlcfs  I  be  obtained  by  the  manner 
of  ury  father's  will  ;  I  am  glad  this  parcel  of  wooers 
are  fo  reafonable^  for  there  is  not  one  among  them 
but  I  doat  on  his  very  abfencc,  and  wilh  them  a  fair 
departure. 

Nipr.  Do  you  not  renrcmber,  lady,  in  your  farher's 
time,  a  Ventttm^  a  fcholar  and  a  fbbier,  that  came 
hither  in  company  of  the  Marquifs  of  Mountfermt  i 

For,  Yes,  yes,  it  was  Bajfanhj  as  I  think,  he  was 
fo  callM. 

Ner,  True,  madam  ;  he  of  all  the  men  that  ercr 
my  foolifh  eyes  look'd  upon,  was  the  bell  dcferving^^ 
a  fair  lady. 

For.  I  remember  him  well,  and  I  remember  him: 
worthy  of  thy  praif^.    How  now  ?  what  news  I 
Enter  a  Servant, 

Ser.  The  four  ftrangers  feek  for  you,  madam,  ro 
take  their  leave;  and  there  is  a  fore-runner  come  fronv 
a  fifrh,  the  Prince  of  Morocco,  who  brings  word  the 
Prince  his  mafter  will  be  here  to-night. 

For,  If  I  could  bid  the  fifth  welcome  with  fb  good 
heart  as  I  can  bid  the  other  four  farewel,  I  (houM  be 
^lad  of  his  approach ;  if  he  have  the  condition  of  a 
fainr,  and  the  complexion  of  a  devil,  I  had  rather  ha 
(liould  fhrive  me  than  wive  me.  Come  Nerijf*.  Sir- 
rah go  before  5  while  we  fhut  the  gate  upon  one 
wooer,  another  knocks  at  the  door.  [fAr^n^x, 

SCENE    III.  Venice. 
Enter  Baflanio  and  Shylock. 

shy.  Three  thoufand  ducats?  well. 

Bajf.   Ay,  Sir,  for  three  months. 

Shy.  For  three  months?  well. 

Bajf,  For  the  which,  as  I  told  you,  Anthonlo  fhall 
\t  bound. 

Shy,  Anthonio  ftiall  become  bound?  well, 

Bajf.  M'.  y  you  ftead  me  ?  will  you  pleafUiTC  m«  ? 
fhi  1  I  km  W  your  aufwcr  ? 


12       The  Merchant  of  Ntnict. 

shy.  Three  thoufand  ducats  for  three  months,  and 
jinthonio  bound  ? 

Bujf.  Your  anfwer  to  that. 

Shy.  Anthonio  is  a  good  man. 

B^Jf*  Have  you  heard  any  imputation  to  the  con- 
trary ? 

Shy.  No,  no,  no,  no  5  my  meaning  in  faying  he  is 
a  good  man,  is  to  have  you  underftand  me,  that  he 
is  fufficient ;  yet  his  means  are  in  fuppofition :  he 
hath  an  Argofis  bound  to  TnpoUsy  another  to  the  J»- 
^ies  I  underftand  moreover  upon  the  Ryalto,  he  hath 
a  third  at  Mexico,  a  fourth  for  England,  and  other 
ventures  he  hath  fquander'd  abroad.  But  fhips  are 
but  boards,  failors  but  men ;  there  be  land-rats,  and 
water-rats,  water-thieves  and  land-thieves,  I  mean  py- 
rates  5  and  then  there  is  the  peril  of  waters,  winds 
and  rocks.  The  man  is  notwithftanding  fufficient  5 
three  thoufand  ducats  ?  I  think  I  may  take  his  bond. 

Biijf,  Be  alTur'd  you  may. 

Shy.  I  will  be  aflar'd  I  may  ;  and  that  I  may  be* 
affur^d,  I  will  bethink  me  j  may  I  fpeak  with  AnthQ- 
nio  f 

EaJ.  If  it  pleafe  you  todine  with  us. 
Shy,  Yes,  to  fmcU  pork,  to  eat  of  the  habitation 
>which  your  prophet  the  Naz^arite  conjur'd  the  devil 
into  ?  I  will  buy  with  you,  fell  with  you,  talk  with 
you,  walk  with  you,  and  fo  following  ;  but  I  will  not 
•at  with  you,  drink  with  you,  nor  pray  with  you. 
V/hat  news  on  the  Ryalto  5  who  is  he  comes  here  ? 
Ent^r  Anthonio, 
JBaJf.  This  is  Signior  Anthonio. 

Shy.  [Ajide,']  How  like  a  fawning  TubUcm  he  looks! 
I  hate  him,  for  he  is  a  chriilian  : 
But  more,  for  that  in  low  fimplicity 
He  lends  out  mony  gratis,  and  brings  down 
The  rate  of  ulance  here  with  us  in  Venice. 
If  I  can  catch  him  once  upon  the  hip, 
I  will  feed  fat  the  ancient  grudge  I  bear  him. 
He  hates  our  facred  nation,  and  he  rails 
Ev'n  there  whbre  merchants  moft  do  congregate. 
On  me,  my  bargains;  and  my  well- won  thrift, 

Whidi 


The  Merchant  of  Venice.     i  j 


Which  he  calls  intereft.    Curfed  be  my  tribe 
If  I  forgive  him. 

Bajf,  Shylock,  do  you  hear? 
Shy.  I  am  debating  of  my  prefent  (lore, 
And  by  the  near  guefs  of  my  memory, 
I  cannot  inftantly  raife  up  the  grofs 
Of  full  three  thoufand  ducats:  what  of  that? 
Tuball,  a  wealthy  Hebrew  of  my  trib?. 
Will  furnifb  me  5  but  foft,  how  many  months 
Do  you  dciire?  Reft  you  fair,  good  Signior,  [To  Anth. 
Your  worfhip  was  the  laft  man  in  our  mouths. 

Anth.  Shylock,  although  I  neither  lend  nor  borrow 
By  taking,  nor  by  giving  of  excefs, 
Yet  to  fupply  the  ripe  wants  of  my  friend 

ril  break  a  cuftom.  —Is  he  yet  poflcft 

How  much  he  would? 

shy.  Ay,  ay,  three  thoufand  ducats. 
Jnth.  And  for  three  Months. 
Shy,  I  had  forgot,  three  months,  you  told  me  fo;* 
•Well  then  your  bond  :  and  let  me  fee,  but  hear  you, 
Methought  you  faid,  you  neither  lend  nor  borrow 
Upon  advantage.  ^ 
Jnth,  I  do  never  ufe  it. 

Shy.  When  faccb  grazM  his  uncle  Lab  tin's  flieep, 
This  Jacob  from  ©ur  holy  Abraham  was 
(As  his  wife  mother  wrought  in  his  behalf) 
The  third  pofTelTor ;  ay,  he  was  the  third. 

jinth.  And  what  of  him?  did  he  take  inrereft? 
Shy.  No,  not  take  int'reft,  not  as  you  would  fay 
Directly  int'reftj  mark  what  Jacob  did. 
When  Laban  and  himfclf  were  compromised 
That  all  the  *  yeanlings  which  were  ftreak'd  and  pled 
Should  fall  as  jacobus  Hire  5  the  Ewes  being  rank, 
In  th'  end  of  autumn  turned  to  the  ramsj 
And  when  the  work  of  generation  was 
Between  thefe  woolly  breeders  in  the  afl, 
The  skilful  fliepherd  f  pecl'd  me  certain  wands : 
And  in  the  doing  of  the  deed  of  kind. 
He  (luck  rhcm  up  before  the  fulfome  ewesj 
Who  then  conceiving,  did  in  ycaning-timc 

Fall 


14-     The  Merchant  of  V^mcc. 

Fall  party-colour'd  lambs,  and  thofe  were  Jac9b*s. 
This  was  a  way  to  thrive,  and  he  was  bleit  \ 
And  thrift  is  bleffing,  if  men  ftcal  it  not, 

Anth,  This  was  a  venture,  Sir,  xh^X  Jacob  ferv'd  for  } 
A  thing  not  in  his  pow'r  to  bring  to  pafs, 
Bu^  fway*d  and  fafhion'd  by  the  hand  of  heav'n* 
Wis  this  inferted  to  make  int*reft  good? 
Or  is  your  gold  and  filver  ewes  and  rams  ? 

shy.  I  cannot  tellj  1  make  it  breed  as  faftj 
But  note  me,  Signror. 

Anth.  Mark  you  this.  Bajfanio^ 
The  devil  can  cite  fcripture  for  his  purpofe. 
An  evil  foul,  producing  holy  witncfs, 
Is  like  a  villain  with  a  fmilir.e.  ch^:^k; 
A  goodly  apple  rotten  at  rh,^  '  eait. 
O  what  a  goodly  outlide  fslf^ood  hathf 

shy.  Three thoufand  r uicats:    's  :  good  round  fura. 
Three  months  from  twelve,  trtn    r  me  fee  ^hc  rare, 
^nth.  Well,  Shylack,  fliah  we  b'  oeholdcn  to  you  ? 
shy.  Signior  Anthonio,  many  h   'R^e  and  oft 
In  the  By  alto  you  have  rated  me, 
About  my  monies  and  m>  ufances. 
%  S  iil  have  I  borne  it  with  a  parienr  fhrug, 
For  fufferance  is  the  badge  of  all  our  trfbs. 
You  call  me  miobeliever,  cut-rhroar  dog, 
And  fpit  upon  my  Jewifh  gaberdine. 
And  ail  for  ufe  of  that  which  is  mv  own. 
Weir  then,  it  now  appears  you  need  my  help: 
Go  rr^  then,  you  rome  to  me,  and  you  fay, 
Shylock,  we  would  have  monies  j  you  f  y  fo,  ' 
You  thar  did  void  your  rheum  upon  my  beard. 
And  toot  me,  as  you  fpurn  a  ftranger  cur 
Over  your  thrcfhold :  money  is  your  fu  t, 
What  (liouM  I  fay  to  you  ?  fhould  I  not  fay. 
Hath  a  dog  money  ?  is  it  poffible 
A  cur  can  lend  three  thoufand  ducats  ?  or 
Shall  I  bend  low,  and  in  a  bondman's  key. 
With  bated  brea'h,  and  whifpVing  humblcnef>, 
Say  this:  fair  Sir,  you  fpit  on  me  lafl  Wednefday^ 
You  fpurn'd  me  fuch  a  day  5  another  time 
Ycu  caird  me  dog  j  and  for  thefc  curtcfics 

V\\ 


The  Merfhant  of  Venice.      i  j 


ra  lend  you  thus  much  monies. 

Anth.  I  am  as  like  to  call  thee  fo  again, 
To  fpit  OH  thee  again,  to  fpurn  thee  too. 
If  thou  wilt  lend  this  money,  lend  ic  not 
As  to  thy  friend,  (for  when  did  friendfliip  take 
A  *  breed  of  barren  metal  of  his  friend  ?) 
But  lend  it  rathe^r  to  thine  enemy. 
Who  if  he  break,  thou  may'ft  with  better  face 
Exa£V  the  penalty. 

shy.  Why  how  you  ftorm  ? 
I  would  be  friends  with  you,  and  have  your  love. 
Forget  the  lliames  that  you  have  ftain'd  me  wrth. 
Supply  your  prcfenr  wants,  and  take  no  doit 
Of  ufance  f^^r  my  monies,  and  you'll  not  hear  mti 
This  is  kind  I  offer. 

Anth.  This  were  kindnefs. 

shy.  This  kindnefs  will  I  fhowj^ 
Go  with  me  to  a  No'-ary,  fcal  me  there 
Your  fingle  bond,  and  in  a  merry  (port 
If  you  repay  me  not  on  fuch  a  day. 
In  fuch  a  place,  fuch  fum  or  ibms  as  are 
ExpreiVd  in  the  condition,  let  the  forfeit 
Be  nominated  for  an  equal  pound 
Of  your  fair  flcfh,  to  be  cut  off  and  taken 
In  what  part  of  your  body  it  (hail  pleafe  me. 

Anth.  Content,  in  faith,  V\\  feal  to  fuch  a  bond". 
And  fay  there  is  much  kindnefi  in  th^Jew. 

Bajf.  You  (hall  not  feal  to  fuch  a  bond  for  me, 
I'll  rather  dwell  in  my  necelTity. 

Anth,  Why  fear  not  man,  I  will  not  forfeit  if} 
Witbm  thefe  two  months  (that's  a  month  before 
This  bond  expiresj  I  do  cxpe^  return 
Of  thrice  three  times  the  value  of  this  bond. 

Shy.  O  father  Abrahamy  what  thefe  chriflians  aref 
Whofe  own  ha^d  dealings  teach  them  to  fufpift 
The  thoughts  of  others!  pray  you  teil  me  thi.?. 
If  he  fhould  break  his  day,  what  fl;ould  1  gain 
By  the  ex-^ft-on  of  the  forreirurc? 
A  pound  of  man*s  flcfh  taken  from  a  man,  Ij 

*  breed  of  metal,  meaning  money  at  ufury.  money  that 
breeds  more — The  old  editions  (tW6  of  'em)  have  if,  A 
bribe  of  batten  metal— 


1 6      The  Merchant  of  Venice. 

Is  not  fo  eftimable  or  profitable. 

As  flefli  of  muttons,  beefs,  or  goats.   I  fay, 

To  buy  his  favour,  I  extend  this  friendfhip: 

If  he  will  take  it,  fo  j  if  not,  adieu  j 

And  for  my  love,  I  pray  you  wrong  me  not. 

uinth.  Yes,  Shylock,  I  will  feal  unto  this  bond. 

Shy,  Then  meet  me  forthwith  at  the  Notary^ 
Give  him  direction  for  this  merry  bond, 
And  1  will  go  and  purfe  the  ducats  ftrair. 
Sec  to  my  houfe,  left  in  the  fearful  guard 
Gf  an  unthrifty  knave,  and  prcfently 
Til  be  wi^h  you.  ^^xit. 

Anth.  Hie  thee,  gentle  J-erfi, 
The  Hebrew  will  turn  chriftian,  he  grows  kind. 

Bajf,  I  like  nor  fair  terms,  and  a  villain*s  mind. 

Anth.  Ccmc  on,  in  this  there  can  be  no  difmay. 
My  fhips  come  home  a  month  before  the  d^y, [Exeunt. 


A  C  T   II.    S  C  E  N  E  L 
Belmont. 

Enter  Morochius  a  Tarony-Moor  all  in  rohite,  and  three 
or  four  Followers  accordingly,  with  Portia,  N';rifFa,  and 
her  train,    Flo.  Cornets, 

Morochius. 

MIflike  me  not  for  my  completion, 
The  fliadow'd  iivery  of  the  burnift/d  fun, 
Te  whom  I  am  a  neighbour,  and  near  bred. 
Bring  me  the  fairefl  creature  northward  born, 
^Vhere  Phoebus''  fire  fcaice  thaws  the  ificks. 
And  let  us  make  incifion  for  your  love, 
To  prove  whofe  blood  is  reddeft,  his  or  mine, 
I  teil  thee,  lady,  this  afpedi  of  mine 
Hath  fear'd  the  valiant  j  by  my  love  I  fwcar. 
The  be[l  regarded  virgins  of  our  clime 
Have  lov*d  it  too:  I  wou'd  not  change  this  hue, 
Excej)t  to  fteal  ycur  thoughts,  my  gentle  Queen, 

%  Tor. 


The  Merchant  ^/Venice.  17 


for.  In  terms  of  choice  I  am  not  (blely  led^ 
By  nice  diredtion  of  a  maiden's  eyes : 
Befides,  the  lottery  of  my  deftiny 
Ba^s  me  the  right  of  voluntary  chufing. 
But  if  my  father  had  nor  fcanred  me, 
And  hedg'd  me  by  his  wit  to  yield  my  fclf 
His  wife,  who  wins  mc  by  that  means  I  told  you; 
Your  felf,  Fenowned  Prince,  then  flood  as  fair 
As  any  comer  I  have  look*d  on  yet. 
For  my  Affedion. 

Mor,  Ev'n  for  that  I  thank  you  5 
Therefore  I  pray  you  lead  me  to  the  caskets 
To  try  my  fortune.    By  this  fcimitar. 
That  flew  the  Sophy  and  a  Terfian  Prince, 
That  won  three  fields  of  Sultan  Solyman, 
I  wouMout-ftarc  the  fterncft  Eyes  that  look. 
Out-brave  the  heart  moft  daring  on  the  earth, 
Pluck  the  young  fucking  cubs  ttom  thcfhe-bcarj 
Yea,  mock  the  lion  when  he  roars  for  prey, 
To  win  thee,  lacjy.    But,  alas  the  while! 

Hercules  and  LyrA^j  play  at  dice 
■"Wh'ch  is  the  better  man,  the  greater  throvv  i 
'May  turn  by  fortune  from  the  weaker  hand: 
So  is  Alddes  beaten  by  his  f  pag|e. 
And  fo  may  I,  blind  fortune  leading  mc,  • 
Mifs  that  which  one  unworthier  may  attain, 
And  die  with  grieving. 

Tor,  You  muft  take  your  chance, 
And  either  not  attempt  tochule  at  all. 
Or  fwcrar  before  you  chufe,  if  you  chufe  wrong. 
Never  to  fpeak  to  lady  afterward 
In  way  of  marriage  j  therefore  be  advis'd. 

Mor.  Nor  will  not  -y  therefore  bring  me  to  my  chance. 

Tor,  Firll  forward  to  the  temple,  after  dinner. 
Your  hazard  fhallbemade. 

Mor.  Good  fortune  then  !  [Cornets. 
To  make  me  bleft  or  curfed'd  among  men.  [Exeunt, 
SCENE    II.  Venice. 
^  Enter  Launcelot  /^lone. 

Lam.  Certainly  my  confcience  will  Icrve  me  to 
Tin  from  this\7c»  my  maftcr.    The  fiend  is  at 
'j-  r/ijff.  mine 


I S       The  Merchant  of  Venice. 


mine  elbow,  and  tempts  me,  faying  to  me,  Gob- 
Lamcelot  Gobbo,  good  Launceht,  or  good  Gobbo, 
or  good  Launcelot  Gobbo,  uft  your  legs,  take  the  ftarr, 
run  away.  My  confcicnce  fays  no  i  rake  heed  honeft 
Lamcalot,  take  heed  honefl  Gobbo^  or  as  aforefaid, 
honeft  Launcelot  Gobbo,  do  not  run,  fcorn  running 
with  thy  heels.  Well,  the  moft  couragious  fiend  bids 
be  pack,  'via  fays  the  fiend,  away  fays  the  fiend,  for 
the  heav'ns  roufe  up  a  brave  mind,  fays  the  fiend, 
and  run.  Well,  my  confcience  hanging  about  the 
neck  of  my  hearr,  fays  very  wifely  to  me,  my  ho- 
neft  friend  Launcehty  being  an  honeil  man's  fon,  or 

rai'her  an  honeft  woman*s  fon  for  indeed  my 

father  did  fomething  fmack,  fomcthing  grow  to  j  he 

had  a  kind  of  tafte,  ^  Well,  my  confcience  fays, 

budge  not  ;  budge,  fays  the  fiend  j  budge  not,  lays 
my  confcience  j  confcience,  fay  I,  you  counfel  well  i 
fiend,  fay  I,  you  counfcl  ill.  To  be  rul'd  by  my 
confcience  I  fliould  fl-ay  with  the  Jevp  my  mafter,. 
who,  Gcd  blcfs  the  mark,  is  a  kind  of  devil;  and  to 
nin  away  from  the  Jev^,  I  (houid  be  ruled  by  the 
fiend,  who,  faving  your  reverence,  is  the  devil  him- 
felf.  Certainly  the  Jew  is  the  very  devil  incarnal  ; 
and  in  my  confcience,  my  confcience  is  but  a  kind 
of  hard  confcience,  to  offer  to  counfel  me  to  fky 
with  the  Jero.  The  fiend  gives  me  more  friendly 
counfel;  1  will  run,  fiend,  my  heels  are  at  your  com- 
mandment,  I  will  run. 

Enter  old  Gobbo  mth  a  basket. 

Cob.  Mafter  young  man,  you,  I  pray  you,  which 
is  the  way  to  mafter  ^ew's  ? 

Laun.  O  heav'os,  this  is  my  true  begotten  father,^ 
who  being  more  than  fand-blind,  high  gravel-blind^ 
knows  me  not  j  I  will  try  eonfufions  with  him. 

Gob,  Mafter  young  gentleman,  I  pray  you  which 
is  the  way  to  mafter  J^ew's  ? 

Laun.  Turn  up,  ot  your  right-hand  at  the  next 
turning,  but  at  the  next  turning  of  all  on  your  left  j 
marry  at  the  very  next  turning  turn  of  no  hand,  but 
turn  down  indireftly  to  the  Jew'^s  houfe. 

G^b.  By  God's  foncie^,  'twill  be  a  hard  way  to  hit  i 

caa 


Ihe  Merchant  of  Venice.       1 9 


can  you  tell  me  whether  one  Launctlot  that  dwells  with 
him,  dwell  with  him  or  no? 

Lum,  Talk  you  of  young  mafter  Launcelot?  (mark 
me  now,  now  will  I  raife  the  waters  j)  talk  you  of 
young  cn after  Launcelot  ? 

Gob.  No  mafter,  Sir,  but  a  poor  man's  fon.  His 
father,  though  I  fay't,  is  an  honeft  exceeding  poor 
man,  and  GoJ  be  thanked  welKto  live. 

Lnun.  Well,  let  his  father  be  what  he  will,  wc 
talk  of  young  mafter  Launcelot  ? 

Gob,  Your  worftiip's  friend  and  Launcelot y  Sir. 

Laun,  But  I  pray  you  ergo,  old  man,  ergo  I  belcech 
you*  talk  you  of  young  mafter  Launcelot  ? 

Gob,' Of  Lamceloty  an't  pleafeyour  mafterftiip. 

Lati\}.  Ergo  mafter  Launcelot,  talk  not  of  mafter 
Launcelot  father,  for  the  young  gentleman  (according 
to  fares  and  deftinies,  and  fuch  odd  fayings,  the  fifters 
three,  and  fuch  branches  of  learning,^  is  indeed  de- 
ceafed,  or  as  you  would  fay  in  plain  terms,  gone  to 
heav'n. 

Gob.  Marry  God  forbid,  the  boy  was  the  very  ftaif 
of  my  age,  my  very  prop. 

Laun.  Do  I  look  like  a  cudgel,  or  a  hovcl-poft, 
ftafF  or  a  prop  ?  do  you  know  me,  father  ? 

Gob,  Alack  the  day,  I  know  you  nor,  young  gen- 
tleman ;  bur  I  pray  you  tell  me,  is  my  boy,  God  reft; 
his  foul,  alive  or  dead  ? 

Laun.  Do  you  not  know  me,  father  ? 

Gob.  Alack  Sir,  lam  fand-blind,  I  know  you  nor. 

Laun.  Nay,  indeed  if  you  had  your  eyes  you  might 
fail  of  the  knowing  me  :  it  is  a  wife  father  that  knows 
his  own  child.  Well,  old  man,  I  will  tell  you  news 
of  your  fon,  give  me  your  bleifing,  truth  will  come 
to  light,  murder  cannot  be  hid  long,  a  man's  iba 
may  ;  but  in  the  end  t^uch  will  our. 

Gob.  Pray  you  Sir  ftand  up,  I  am  fare  you  are  noc 
Launcelot  my  hoy. 

Laun,  Pray  you  let's  have  no  more  fading  about 
ir,  but  give  me  your  blefllng  -y  I  am  Launcelot^  your 
boy  that  was,  your  fon  that  is,  your  child  that  (hall  be. 

G^b,  I  cannot  think  you  arc  my  Ion. 

Laun^ 


20      The  Merchant  of  Venice. 


Laun.  I  know  nor  what  I  (hall  think  of  that:  but 
I  am  Lfiuncelot  the  Je-^^  man,  and  I  am  fare  Al^r- 
gery  yo^av  wife  is  ray  mother. 

Goo.  Her  name  is  hlargery  indeed.  Til  be  fwora 
if  thcu  be  Lnuvcelot,  thou  art  mine  own  ficfh  and 
blood:  iCrd  worfnip'd  might  he  be  !  what  a  beard  haft 
thou  got!  thou  haft  got  more  hair  on  thy  chin,  than 
Dobbin  my  Fi'ii-hcrfe  has  on  his  tail. 

Laun.  It  fhould  ffcm  then  that  Bobbin's  tail  grow4 
backward,  1  am  fure  he  had  mere  hair  on  his  tail 
than  I  have  on  my  face  when  I  laftfawhim. 

Gob.  Lord  how  art  thou  changed  !  how  doft  thou 
and  thy  msfter  agree?  I  have  brought  him  a  prcfcnt  j 
how  agree  you  now  ? 

Laun.  Well,  well;  but  for  mine  own  paft,  as  I 
have  fet  up  my  reft  to  run  away,  fo  I  will  not  reft 
'till  1  have  run  fbme  ground.  My  mafter's  a  very 
:  give  him  a  prefent!  give  hini  a  halter:  lam 
famifh'd  in  his  lervice.  You  may  tell  every  finger  I 
have  with  my  ribs.  Father  I  am  g^ad  you  are  come, 
give  me  your  prefent  to  one  m after  Bajfanio,  who  in- 
deed gives  rare  new  liveries  j  if  I  fcrve  him  not,  I 
will  run  as  far  as  God  has  any  ground.  O  rare  for- 
tune, here  comes  the  man  j  to  him  father,  for  I  am 
a  Jew  if  1  f.rve  the  Jev>  any  longer. 

Enter  Bairaniow/V^  a  follower  or  two, 

Bajf,  You  may  do  foj  bur  let  it  be  fo  hafted,  that 
fupper  be  ready  at  the  farthcft  by  five  of  the  clock: 
fee  thefe  letters  deliver'd,  put  the  liveries  to  mak'ng* 
and  defirc  Gratiano  to  come  anon  to  my  lodging. 

Laun   To  him,  father. 

Gob.  God  blefs  your  worfti'p. 

^ajf.  Gramercy,  wouldTt  thou  aupht  with  me 

Cob.  Here's  my  fon,  Sir,  a  poor  boy. 

Laun.  Not  a  poor  boy,  Sir^  bet  the  rich  J^^w's  man, 
that  would,  Sir,  as  my  father  fhall  fpccifie. 

Gob.  He  hath  a  great  infedlion,  Sir,  as  one  would 
fay,  to  ferve. 

Laun.  Indeed  the  (hort  and  the  long  is,  I  ferve 
the  Jew,  and  have  a  defirc  as  my  father  ihall  fpecifie. 

Coi. 


The  Merchant  of  Venice.  21 

Cob,  His  mafter  and  he,  faving  your  wor(hip*s  re- 
verence, are  fcarce  catercouiins. 

Laun.  To  be  brief,  the  very  truth  is,  that  the  Je-m 
having  done  me  wrong,  doth  caulc  me,  a«  my  fatner, 
being  I  hope  an  old  man,  fhail  frutifie  unto  you. 

Gob.  I  have  here  a  difh  of  doves  that  I  would  be- 
ftow  upon  your  worfhip,  and  my  fuit  is  

LAun,  In  very  brief,  the  fuit  is  impertinent  to  my 
felf,  as  your  worfhip  (hall  know  by  this  honeft  old 
man  5  and  though  I  iay  it>  though  old  man,  yet  poor 
man  my  farher. 

Bajf,  Onefpeak  fer  both,  what  would  you  ? 

J^ann,  Serve  you,  Sir. 

Gob.  This  is  the  very  defedof  the  matter.  Sir. 

'Bajf.  I  know  thee  v/elj,  thou  haft  obtained  thy  fuit  ? 
Shjlock,  thy  mafter,  fpoke  with  me  this  day, 
-And  hath  prefer'd  thee,  if  it  be  preferment 
To  leave  a  rich  Jeroi's  lervice  to  become 
The  follower  of  fo  poor  a  gentleman. 

Laun.  The  old  proverb  is  very  well  parted  betweeoi 
my  mafter  Shylock  and  you,  Sir  5  you  have  the  grace 
of  God,  Sir,  and  he  hath  enough. 

BaJf.  Thou  fpeak'ft  it  well  j  go  father  with  thy  fon. 
Take  leave  of  thy  old  mafter,  and  enquire 
My  lodging  out  ;  give  him  a  livery. 
More  guarded  than  his  fellows;  lee  it  done. 

Laun.  Father  in,  I  cannot  get  a  fervice,  no  ?  I  have 
ne*cr  a  tongue  in  my  head  ?  well,  if  any  man  in  Italy 
have  a  fairer  table  which  doth  offer  to  iwear  upon  a 
book^  I  fhall  have  good  fortune  ;  gc  to,  here's  9 
fimple  line  or  life,  here's  a  fmall  trifle  of  wfves,  alas, 
fifteen  wives  is  nothing,  eleven  widows  and  nine  maids 
is  a  (imple coming  in  for  one  man!  and  then  to  fcapc 
drowning  thrice,  and  to  be  in  peril  of  my  life  with  the 
edge  of  a  feather-bed,  here  are  fimple  Tcapes!  well,  if 
fortune  be  a  woman,  fhe's  a  good  wench  for  this  geer. 
Father  come,  Tli  take  my  leave  of  the  J^^jp  inthctwink- 
ling  of  an  eye. 

[Ex.  Laun.  and  Gob. 
BaJf.  I  pray  thee,  good  Leonardo,  think  on  this  i 
Thcfc  things  being  bought  and  orderly  bcftowcd, 

Re- 


22     The  Merchant  of  Venice. 

Return  in  hade,  for  I  do  feaft  to-night 

My  beft  cftecm'd  acquaintance;  hie  thee,  go. 

L^on*  My  beft  endeavours  fhall  be  done  herein. 
SCENE  III. 
lEnttT  Gratiano. 

<?rii.  Where  is  your  maftcr  ? 

Lton.  Yonder,  Sir,  he  WJilks. 

Gm.  Signior  Baffctnio, 

Bajf,  Gratiano. 

Gra,  I  have  a  fuit  to  you. 

Bajf.  You  have  obtained  it. 

Gra.  You  muft  not  deny  me,  I  muft  go  with  you 
to  Belmont. 

Bajf.  Why  then  you  muft :  but  hear  thee,  Gratiano, 
Thou  art  too  wild,  too  rude,  and  bold  of  voice. 
Parts  that  become  thee  happily  enough, 
And  in  fuch  eyes  as  ours  apprar  not  faults  j 
But  where  thou  art  not  known,  why  there  they  fliew 
Something  too  liberal    pray  thee  take  pain 
T*  allay  with  fomc  cold  drops  of  modcfty 
Thy  skipping  fpirit,  left  through  thy  wild  behaviour 
1  be  mifconftru'd  in  the  place  I  go  to, 
And  lofc  my  hopes. 

Gra.  Signior  Bajfanio,  hear  me. 
If  I  do  not  put  on  a  fober  habit, 
Talk  with  refpeft,  and  fwear  but  now  and  then. 
Wear  prayer-books  in  my  pockets,  look  demurely. 
Nay  more,  while  grace  is  faying,  hood  mine  eyes 
Thus  with  my  hat,  and  figh  and  fay  Amen  i 
Ufe  all  th'  obfervance  of  civility, 
Like  one  well  ftudied  in  a  fad  oftent 
To  pleafe  his  grandam  j  never  truft  me  more. 

Bajf,  Well,  we  (hall  fee  your  bearing. 

Gra.  Nay,  but  I  bar  to-night,  you  lhall  not  gage  mc 
By  what  we  do  to- night. 

BaJf.  No,  that  were  pity. 
1  would  entreat  you  rather  to  put  on 
Your  boldcft  fuit  of  mirth,  for  we  have  friends 
That  purpofe  merriment :  but  fare  you  well, 
I  have  feme  bufinefs. 

Gru.  And  I  muft  to  Lorenao  and  the  reft : 
But  wc  will  vifit  you  at  fupper-cimc.  [Exe«»/. 


The  Merchant  of  Ycnicc.  23 


SCENE  IV. 
Erstir  Jeflica  and  Launcelot. 

yef.  I'm  forry  thou  wilt  leave  my  father  foj 
Our  houfe  is  he.l,  and  thou  a  merry  devil 
Didft  rob  it  of  fome  tafte  of  tedioufnefs  j 
But  fare  thee  well,  there  is  a  ducac  for  thee. 
And  LaunceUty  foon  at  fuppcr  ftialt  thou  fee 
Lorenzo,  who  is  thy  new  mafter's  gucilj 
Give  him  this  letter,  do  it  fecretly, 
And  fo  farewel:  I  would  not  have  my  father 
See  me  talk  with  thee. 

Laun.  Adieu  j  tears  exhibit  my  tongue,  moft  beau- 
tiful Pagan,  moil  {wcqz  few !  if  a  Chriftian  did  not 
pl«y  the  knave  and  get  thee,  I  am  much  deceiv'dj  but 
adieu,  thefe  foollHi  drops  do  fomewhat  drown  my 
manly  fpirit :  adieu.  [Exif, 

Jef.  Farewel,  good  Launcelot. 
Alack,  what  heinous  fin  is  it  in  me. 
To  be  afliam'd  to  be  my  father's  child  ? 
But  though  I  am  a  daughter  to  his  blood, 
I  am  not  to  his  manners :  O  Lorenzo, 
If  thou  keep  promife,  I  ftiall  end  t.his  ftrife. 
Become  a  chriftian,  and  thy  loving  wife.  {^Exit, 

SCENE  V. 
Inter  Gratiauo,  Lorenzo,  Solarino,  anJ  Salanio. 

Lor,  Nay,  we  will  (link  away  in  fupper-time,  dif- 
guife  us  at  my  lodging,  and  return  all  in  an  hour. 

Gra,  We  have  not  made  good  preparation. 

Sal.  We  have  not  fpoke  as  yet  of  torch-bearers. 

Sola,  'Tis  vile,  unlefs  it  may  be  quaintly  ordered. 
And  better  in  my  mind  not  undertook. 

Lor,  'Tis  now  but  four  o'-clock,  we  have  two  hours 
To  furnifh  us     Friend  Launcelot,  what's  the  news? 
Enter  Launcelot  with  a  letter. 

Laun.  And  it  fliall  plcafe  you  to  break  up  this,  it 
Ihall  (eem  to  fignify. 

Lor.  I  know  the  hand,  in  faith  'tis  a  fair  hand. 
And  whiter  than  the  paper  it  writ  on 

Is 


24       The  Merchant  of  Venice; 

Is  the  fair  hand  that  writ. 
Gr/i.  Love-news,  in  faith. 
Laun.  By  your  leave.  Sir. 
'Lor,  Whither  goeft  thou  ? 

Ldnn,  Marry,  Sir,  to  bid  my  old  maftef  the  t© 
fup  to-night  with  my  new  mafter  the  chriftian. 

Lor.  Hold  here,  take  this,  tell  gentle  JcJJicet 
1  will  not  fail  her,  fpeak  it  privately. 
Go  Gentlemen,  will  you  prepare  for  this  mask  to-night  ? 
I  am  provided  of  a  torch-bearer.  \^ExU  Laua. 

Sul,  Ay  marry,  Til  be  gone  about  it  ftrait. 

Soli^,  And  fo  will  I. 

Lor.  Meet  me  and  Gratiana 
At  Gratiano's  lodging  fome  hour  hence. 

Sal.  'Tisgood  we  do  fo.  [Exit 

Gra.  Was  not  that  letter  from  fair  Je/Jtca  ? 

Lor.  I  muft  needs  tell  thee  all,  (he  hath  diredled 
How  I  fliall  take  her  from  her  father's  houfe. 
What  gold  and  jewels  (lie  is  furnifhM  with. 
What  page's  fait  fhe  hath  in  readinefs. 
If  e'er  the  Jew  her  father  come  to  heav'n, 
It  will  be  for  this  gentle  daughter's  fake  : 
And  never  dare  misfortune  crofs  her  foot, 
Unlefs  fhe  doit  under  this  excufe. 
That  (he  is  ifTue  to  a  faithlefs  yew. 
Come,  go  with  me,  perufe  this  as  thou  goeft, 
Fair  JeJ/ica  fhall  be  my  torch-bearer.  [Exemt. 

SCENE  VI. 
Enter  Shylock  and  Launcelot. 
Si&y.  Well,  thou  fhalt  fee,  thy  eyes  fhallbe  thy  judge, 
The  difference  of  old  Shylock  2Lnd  Bajfamo. 
What  Jejficfil  thou  (halt  not  gormandize 

As  thou  haft  done,  with  me  what  JejpxaT 

And  deep  and  fnore,  and  rend  apparel  out. 
Why  Jfjfica,  I  fay. 
Latm.  SN  hy  JeJJica  ! 

Shy.  Who  bids  thee  call  ?  I  did  not  bid  thee  call. 
Laun.  Your  worfhip  was  wont  to  tell  me  I  could 
do  nothing  without  bidding. 

tnUf 


* 


The  Merchant  of  Venice-      2  5 


Enter  Jeflica. 

Jef.  Call  you  ?  what  is  your  will  ? 

Shy,  I  am  bid  forth  to  fupper,  Jejpcd, 
There  are  my  keys :  but  wlverefore  Ihould  I  go  ? 
I  am  not  bid  for  love  j  they  flatter  me : 
But  yet  ril  go  in  hate,  to  feed  upon 
The  prodigal  chriftian.    Jeffic^^y  my  girh, 
Look  to  my  houfe,  I  am  right  loth  to  go, 
There  is  fome  ill  a  brewing  towards  my  reft. 
For  I  did  dream  of  money-bags  to-night. 

LaunA  bcfeech  you,  Sir,  go,  my  young  mafter  doth 
cxpedt  your  reproach. 

shy.  So  do  1  his. 

"taun.  And  they  have  confpired  together,  I  will  not 
fay  you  fliall  fee  a  mask ;  but  if  you  do,  then  it  was 
not  for  nothing  that  my  nofe  fell  a  bleeding  on  black 
Monday  laft,  at  fix  a-clock  i'ch'  morning,  fall  ng  out 
that  year  on  Alh-Wednefday  was  four  year  in  the  after- 
noon. 

Shy.  What  are  thcfe  masks  ?  hear  you  me,  ^ej/ica, 
Lock  up  my  doors,  and  when  you  hear  the  drum, 
And  the  vile  fqucaking  of  the  wry-neck'd  fife, 
Clamber  not  you  up  to  the  cafements  then. 
Nor  thf  aft  your  head  into  the  publick  ftreet 
To  gaze  on  chriftian  fools  with  Varnifh'd  faces: 
But  ftop  my  houfe*s  cars,  I  mean  my  Cafemenrs, 
Let  not  the  found  of  (hallow  foppery  enrcr 
My  fober  houfc.    By  Jacobs  ftaff  I  fwear, 
I  have  no  mind  of  feafting  forth  to-night  j 
But  I  will  go;  go  you  before  me,  firrah: 
Say  1  will  come. 

Lnun,  I  will  go  before,  Sir. 
Miftrefs,  look  oilt  at  a  window  for  all  this, 
There  will  come  a  chriftian  by. 

Will  be  worth  a  Jexotfs  eye.  [Exit  Laun. 

Shy,  What  fays  that  fool  of //^^/«r's  off  fpring  ?  ha. 

J^f.  His  words  were,  farewel  miftrefs,  nothing  elfe. 

shy.  The  patch  is  kind  enough,  but  a  huge  feeder: 
Snail-flow  in  profit,  but  he  fleeps  by  day 
More  than  the  wild  cat;  drones  hive  not  with  me 
Therefore  I  part  with  him,  and  part  with  him 

B  To 


z6     The  Merchant  i?/*  Venice. 

To  one  that  I  would  have  him  help  to  wafte 
His  borrowed  purfe.    Well,  JeJJica,  go  in. 
Perhaps  1  will  return  immediately  ^ 
Shut  the  doors  after  you,  faft  bind,  faftfind, 
A  proverb  never  ftale  in  thrifty  mind.  [^Exit, 
Jef.  Farewcli  and  if  my  fortune  be  not  croft,  j 
I  have  a  father,  you  a  daughter'  loft.  [ExitJ 

SCENE  VII. 
Enter  6ratiano  and  Salanio  in  mafqueradg. 

Gra,  This  is  the  pent-houfe  under  which  Lorenzo 
•dcfired  us  to  make  a  ftand. 

Sal.  His  hour  is  almoft  paft. 

Gra,  And  it  is  marvel  hcout-dwclls  his  hour, 
For  lovers  ever  run  before  the  clock. 

Sal.  O  ten  times  faftcr  renns*  f  'ldgGons  fly 
To  *  feal  love's  bonds  new  made,  than  they  are  wont 
To  keep  obliged  faith  unforfeited! 

Gra,  That  ever  holds.  Whorifeth  from  a  feaft 
With  that  keen  appetite  that  he  fits  down  ?  : 
Where  is  the  horfe  that  doth  untrcad  again 
His  tedious  meafurcs  withth*  unbated  fire 
That  he  did  pace  them  firft  ?  all  things  that  are; 
Are  with  more  fpirit  chafed  than  enjoy'd. 
How  like  ayounker  or  a  prodigal 
The  skarfcd  bark  purs  from  her  native  bay, 
Hugg*d  and  embraced  by  rhe  ftrurapet  wind  ? 
Howlikethe  prodigalduth  fhe  return 
With  if:  over-weather'd  ribs  and  ragged  fails, 
Lean,  rent,  and  beggar'dby  the  ftrumpct  wind  ? 
Enter  Lorenzo. 

Sal.  Here  comes  Lorenx^o  :  more  of  this  hereafter. 

Lor,  Sweet  friends,  your  patience  for  my  long abodri 
Not  I,  but  my  affairs  have  made  }*ouwait; 
When  you  (hall  plea fe  to  play  the  thievesfor  wives, 
ril  watch  as  long  for  you  then;  come  approach  ; 
Here  dwells  my  father  few,  Hoa,  who's  within? 
Jeffica  above  in  hoy'i  cloaths, 

Jef.  Who  are  you  ?  teil  me  for  more  certainty. 
Albeit  rilfwearthat  1  do  know  your  tongue. 

♦  fleaL  if-  over'^miher'd. 

'  { 


The  Merchant  of  Venice.  27 


Lor.  LorenzOj  and  thy  love. 

Jef.  Lorenzo  ctniin,  and  my  love  indeed, 
For  who  love  J  fo  much  ?  and  now  who  knows 
But  you,  Lorenzo,  whether  I  am  yours  ? 

Lor,  Heav'n  and  thy  thoughts  are  witncfs  that  thou  art, 

yef.  Here,  catch  his  casket,  it  is  worth  the  pains^ 
Vm  glad  'tis  night,  you  do  not  look  on  me, 
For  I  anPi  much  afham'd  of  my  exchange  $ 
But  love  is  blind,  and  lovers  cannot  fee 
The  pretty  follies  that  themfelves  commit  i 
For  if  they  could,  Cupid  himfelf  would  blufh 
To  fee  me  thus  transformed  to  a  boy. 

Lor.  Defcend,  for  you  muft  be  my  torch-bearer. 

ye/.  What,  muft  I  hold  a  candle  to  my  fhames? 
They  in  themfelves  good-footh  are  too  too  light. 
Why,  *tisan  office  of  difcovery,  love, 
And  I  Ihould  be  obfcur'd. 

Lor.  So  are  you  fweet, 
Ev'n  in  the  lovely  garnifhof  a  boy. 
But  come  at  once  ■ 

For  the  clofc  night  doth  play  the  run-away. 
And  we  are  ftaid  for  at  Bajfanh's  feaft. 

^ejf.  1  will  makefaftthe  doors,  and  gild  my  felf 
With  fomc  more  ducats,  and  be  with  you  ftrait 

Cra.  Now  by  my  hood,  a  Gentile,  and  no  Jew. 

Lor.  Belhrew  me  but  I  love  her  heartily, 
for  (heis  wife,  if  I  can  judge  of  her^ 
And  fair  (he  is,  if  that  mine -eyes  be  true  ; 
And  true  (he  is,  as  fhe  hath  prov'd  her  fclf ; 
And  therefore  like  her  felf,  wife,  fair,  and  true. 
Shall  (he  be  placed  in  my  conftant  foul. 

Re-enter  JcfTica. 
What,  art  thou  come?  on  gentlemen,  awayj 
Our  masking  mates  by  this  time  for  us  ftay.  [Exit. 
Enter  Amhonio. 

Anth.  Who's  there  ? 

Cra,  Signior  AnthomOy 

Anth.  Fie,  Cratiano,  where  are  all  the  reft 
'Tisnine  a- clock,  our  friends  all  ftay  for  you. 
No  mask  to-night,  the  wind  is  come  about, 
Bsjptnio  prefcntly  will  go  aboard, 

b  z  1 


2  8      The  Merchant  of  Venice. 


1  have  fent  twenty  out  to  feek  for  you. 

Gm,  Tra  glad  on'r,  I  deiiretio  more  delight. 
Than  to  be  under  fail,  and  gone  to-nighc.  \ExtHm. 

SCENE  Vill.  Belmont. 
Enter  Portia  -aith  Morocchius  9i,nd  bcth  thtir  Trains. 

For,  Go,  draw  afide  the  curtains,  and  difcover 
The  fevVal  caskets  to  this  noble  Prince. 
Kow  make  your  choice.     [Three  taskets  Mre  Jifctn^er^J, 

Mor.  The  firft  of  gold,  which  this  infcriprion  bears., 
U^jo  chufeth  me^  Jlyall  gain  what  many  men  Jejire, 
The  lecond  filver,  which  this  promife  carries, 
Mlio  chufeth  mt,  Jfmll  get  as  much  as  he  deferves. 
This  third,  dull  lead,  with  warning  all  3s  blutit, 
Who  chufeth  me,  rhufi  give  avd  hazard  all  he  hath. 
How  iLall  1  know  if  1  do  chufe  the  right? 

For,  The  one  of  them  contains  my  pidla  re,  Prince, 
If  you  chufe  that,  then  1  am  yours  wit  hall. 

Mor.  Some  God  diredl  my^  judgment  :  lej  me  &e, 
I  will  furvey  the  infcriptions  back  again  ^ 
What  fays  this  leaden  casket? 

Who  chufeth  me,  mufi  give  tfnd  hazard  all  he  hath. 

M\i?L  give,  for  what?  for  lead?  hazard  for  lead. 

This  casket  threatens.    Men  that  hazard  ail, 

Do  i!  in  hope  of  fair  advantages: 

A  golden  mind  (loops  not  to  fhows  of  drof?, 

VA  then  not  give  nor  hazard  ought  for  lead? 

"What  fivs  the  filver  wi^h  her  virgin  hue? 

Who  chufeth  me,  flmll  get  as  much  as  he  defh'v^s. 

As  much  as  he  deiervss  ?  paufe  there,  Morocchius  y 

And  weigh  thy  value  v>^ith  an  even  hand. 

If  thou  bVft  rated  by  thy  ellimation 

Thou  doft  deferve  enough,  and  yer  enough 

May  not  extend  fo  far  as  to  the  lady^ 

And  yet  to  be  arraid  of  my  dcferving^ 

Were  but  a  weak  difabling  of  my  fell. 

As  much  as  1  deferve?  why  that's  the  lady  ; 

1  do  in  birth  deferve  her,  and  in  fortunes, 
In  graces,  and  in  qualities  of  breeding: 
But  more  than  thele,  in  love  I  do  deferve. 
What  if  1  firay'd  no  farther,  but  chofe  here? 

Let's 


The  Merchant  of^tmcz.  zgi 


Let's  fee  once  more  this  faying  grav'd  in  gold, 

ifl^o  chujeth  me,  JJjall  gain  rchcit  mciny  men  dejtre. 

Why  that's  the  iady,  all  the  world  delires  her : 

From  rhe  four  corners  of  the  earth  they  come 

To  kifs  this  fhrine,  this  mortal  breathing  faint. 

Th'  Hircfinim  deUrts  and  the  vaftie  wilds 

Of  wide  j^mbiii  are  as  thorough-fares  now. 

For  Princes  to  come  view  fair  Portia. 

The  watVy  kingdom,  whofe  ambitious  head 

Spits  in  the  face  of  heaven,  is  no  bar 

To  ftop  the  foreign  fpirirs,  but  they  come 

As  o'er  a  brook,  to  fee  fair  Portia. 

One  of  thefe  three  contains  her  heav'niy  picfiurc. 

Is*t  like  that  lead  contains  her  ?  'twere  damnation 

To  think  fo  bafe  a  thought :  it  were  too  grofs 

To  rib  her  fearcloth  in  the  obfcure  grave. 

Or  fhall  I  think  in  filver  (he's  immur'd, 

Being  ten  times  undervalued  to  try'd  gold  ? 

O  finful  thought,  never  fo  rich  a  gem 

Was  fe:  in  worfe  than  gold  !  they  have  in  England 

A  coin  that  bears  the  figure  of  an  angel 

Stamped  in  gold,  but  that's  infculpt  upon: 

But  here  an  angel  in  a  golden  bed 

Lies  ail  within.    Deliver  me  the  key  5 

Here  do  I  chufe,  and  thrive  I  as  I  may. 

For.  There  take  it,  Prince,  and  if  my  form  lie  there 
Then  I  am  yours.  [Unlocking  the  gold  casket, 

Mor.  O  hell!  what  have  we  here,  a  carrion  death, 
Within  whofe  empty  eye  there  is  a  fcrowU 
Til  read  the  writing. 

Ml  that  glijlers  is  not  gold. 
Often  have  you  heard  that  told  j 
Many  a  man  his  life  hath  fold, 
But  my  Ofitfide  to  behold. 
Gilded  wood  may  worms  infold: 
Had  you  been  as  wife  as  bold, 
XoHng  in  limb,  in  judgment  dd. 
Tour  anfwer  had  not  been  infcrcl'd. 
Fare  yo4i  welLyour  Juit  is  cold. 


30     The  MerchanL  of  Ytmct. 

Aftr.  Cold  indeed,  and  labour  loft  : 
Then  farewcl  hear,  and  welcome  froft : 
lorfia  adieu,  I  have  roe  grieved  a  heart 
To  rake  a  tedious  leave:  thus  lolers  part.  ^Exitr 

For.  A  gentle  riddance  :  draw  the  curtains,  go, 
Let  all  of  his  complexion  chufe  me  fo.  [Exeunt^ 

S  C  E  N  E    IX.  Venice. 
Enter  Solarino  and  Salanio. 

Sill.  Why  man,  r  faw  Bajptnio  under  fill, 
"With  hini  is  Gratiano  ^one  along, 
And  ii)  their  fivip  Tm  flj-e  Lorenzo  is  not. 

Sola.  The  villain  yen?  wirh  outcries  rais'd  the  Duke, 
*    Who  went  wiih  hmi  to  learch  BaJpimo's(h'ip. 

Sal.  He  cime  too  late,  the  iliip  was  under  fail  y 
But  there  the  Duke  was  giv*n  to  undcrftand. 
That  in  a  Gondalo  were  feen  together 
Lorenxo  and  his  am'rous  Jejpca  : 
Befides,  Anthonw  eertify'd  the  Duke 
They  were  not  with  Bajfanio  in  his  fhip. 

Sola.  I  never  heard  a  paffion  fo  confus'd. 
So  iirange,  outrageous,  and  fo  variable, 
As  the  dog  Jenv  did  uKer  in  the  ftreetsj 
My  daughter,  O  my  ducats,  O  my  daughter  t 
Fled  with  a  chriftian  ?  O  my  chriftian  ducats! 
Juftice,  the  law,  my  ducats,  and  my  daughter! 
A  fealed  bag,  two  fcaled  bags  of  ducats. 
Of  dcuble  ducats,  {k)ln  from  me  by  my  daughter  I 
And  jewels,  two  ftones,  rich  and  precioLis  ftones, 
Stoln  by  my  daughter!  juftice!  find  the  girl; 
She  hath  the  ftones  upon  her,  and  the  ducats. 

SaL  Why  all  the  boys  in  Venice  follow  him^ 
Crying  his  ftones,  his  daughter,  and  his  ducats. 

Sola.  Let  good  Anthonio  look  he  keep  his  day, 
Or.  he  fhail  pay  for  this. 

5"^/.  Marry,  well  remembered. 
I  reafon'd  with  a  Vrenchman  yefterday, 
Who  told  me,  in  the  narrow  feas  that  part 
The  French  and  Engliftj,  there  mifcarried 
A  veflel  of  our  country  richly  fraught  : 


The  Merchant^  Venice.       3  r 


I  thought  upon  Anthonio  when  he  told  me, 
And  wifh*d  in  fiience  that  it  were  not  his. 

Seif^.  You  were  bcft  to  tell  Anthonio  what  you  Usar-, 
Yet  do  notfuddenly,  for  it  may  grieve  him. 

Sdl.  A  kinder  Gentleman  treads  not  the  earth. 
I  faw  Bajfanio  and  Anthonia  part. 
Hajfar.io  told  him  he  would  makefome  fpecd 
Of  his  return:  he  anfwcr  d,  do  not  fo, 
Slubber  not  bufuufs  for  n^y  l^ke,  BaffaniOy 
Bat  f!ay  the  very  riping  ot  the  time  5 
And  for  thej^ew's  bond  which  he  hath  of  me. 
Let  it  not  enter  in  your  mind  of  love  : 
Be  meiry,  and'emp;oy  your  chiefcll: thoughts 
To  courtthip,  and  fjch  fair  ollents  of  love 
As  fhall  convenienrly  become  you  there. 
And  even  there,  his  eye  being  hid  with  tears, 
Turning  his  face,  he  piu  his  hand  behind  him, 
And  with  affection  wotid'roui  fenlible 
H«  wrung  Bsjfarjws  hand,  and  fo  they  parted. 

Sola-.  I  think  he  only  loves  the  world  for  him 
I  pray  thee  let  us  go  and  find  him  out, 
And  quicken  his  embraced  hcavineft 
With  Tome  delight  or  other. 

Sal,  Do  we  fo.  [Exeun:, 

SCENE    X.  Belmont, 

Enter  Neriffa  with  a  Servant. 

Ner.  Qaick,  quick,  1  pray  thee,  draw  the  cur- 
tain ftrait. 

The  Prince  of  Arragon  has  ta'en  his  oath, 
And  comCi  to  his  election  prcfcntly. 

Enter  Arragon,  his  train,  Portia.  Flor,  Cornets, 
The  Caskets  are  Jifcover'd, 

Per.  Behold  there  ftand  the  caskets,  noble  Prince, 
If  you  chufe  that  wherein  I  am  contained, 
Strait  (hall,  our  nuptial  rites  be  folemniz'd  : 
But  if  you  fail,  without  more  fpecch,  my  lord, 
You  muft  hti  gone  from  hence  immediately. 

Ar,  I  am  enjoin'd  by  oath  t*obfcrve  three  things  5 
Fir  ft,  never  to  unfold  to  any  one 

B  4.  Which 


3^     The  Merch^t  of  Venice. 

Which  casket  'twas  I  chofc  j  next  if  I  fail 

Qf  the  right  casket,  never  m  my  life 

To  woo  a  maid  in  way  of  marriage  : 

Laft,  if  I  fail  in  fortune  of  my  choice, 

Immediately  to  leave  you  and  be  gone. 

For,  To  thefe  injunflions  every  one  doth  fwear 

Tiiat  comes  to  hazard  for  my  worlhlefs  (elf. 
Ar.  And  fo  have  I  addreft  me,  fortune  now 

To  my  heart's  hope  \  gold,  filver,  and  bafe  lead. 

Who  chufeth  me^  muft  give  and  hazard  all  he  hath. 

You  fliall  look  fairer  e'er  I  give  or  hazard. 

What  fays  the  golden  cheft?  ha,  let  me  fee  ; 

M^o  chufeth  mCy  /hall  gain  what  many  men  defire. 

What  many  men  defire  that  may  be  meant 

Of  the  full  multitude  that  chufe  by  (how, 

Not  learning  more  than  the  fond  eye  doth  teach; 

Which  pry  not  to  tb*  interior,  but  like  the  martlet 

Builds  in  the  weather  on  the  outward  wall, 
Ev'n  in  the  force  and  road  of  cafua'ty. 
1  will  not  chufe  what  many  men  defire, 
Becaufe  I  will  not  jump  with  common  fpirits. 
And  rank  me  with  the  barbVous  multitudes. 
V/Iiy  then  to  thee  thou  filver  treafure-houfe  : 
Tell  me  once  more,  what  title  thou  doft  bear  ? 
Who  chufeth  me^  fhall  get  at  much  as  he  defervesi 
And  well  faid  too,  for  who  fhall  go  about 
To  cozen  fortune,  and  be  honourable 
Without  the  ftamp  of  merit  ?  let  l\6ne  prefume 
To  wear  an  undeferved  dignity  : 

0  that  efiates,  degrees,  and  office?, 

Were  not  derived  corruptly,  that  clear  honour 
Were  purchased  by  the  merit  of  the  wearer  ! 
How  many  then  ihould  cover  that  ftand  bare  ? 
How  many  be  commanded  that  command  ? 
How  much  low  peafantry  would  then  be  glcan'd 
From  the  true  feed  of  honour  ?  how  much  honour 
Pickt  from  the  chaff  and  ruin  of  the  times, 
To  be  new  varnifti'd  ?  well,  but  to  my  choice : 
Who  chufeth  me,  fhall  get  as  much  as  he  deferves: 

1  will  afTume  defert  5  give  me  a  key  for  thir, 
And  inftantly  unlock  my  fortunes  here. 

For. 


The  Merchant  of  Venice.      3  3 


Vof,  Too  long  a  paufe  for  that  which  you  find  there. 

[Unlocking  the  Jilver  casket, 

Ar,  What's  here!  the  portrait  of  a  blinking  idior, 
Prefenting  me  a  fchedule  ?  I  will  read  it : 
How  much  unlike  art  thou  to  Tortia  ? 
How  much  unlike  my  hopes  and  my  deferviftgs? 
Who  chufes  me  /hall  have  as  much  as  he  deferves. 
Did  I  defcrve  no  more  than  a  fool's  head  ? 
Is  that  my  prize?  are  my  defercs  no  better? 

Por.  To  offc;nd  and  judge  are  diftind  office<f, 
And  of  oppofed  natures. 

Ar,  What  is  here? 

The  fire  fev'n  times  tried  this, 
Sev'n  times  tried  that  judgment  is. 
That  did  never  chufe  amifs. 
Some  there  be  that  jhadotos  kifs^ 
Such  have  but  a  Jhadow's  bltfst 
There  be  fools  alive,  I  wis. 
Silvered  oer^  and  fo  -was  this  : 
Take  what  wife  you  will  to  bed, 
I  will  ever  be  your  head: 
So  be  gone,  Sir,  you  are  ffed. 

Ar  Still  more  fool  I  lhall  appear 
By  the  tim^  1  linger  here; 
With  one  fool's  head  I  came  to  woo, 
But  I  go  aw^,y  with  two. 
Sweet  adie^,  I'll  keep  my  oath, 
Paticnriy  to  bear  my  wroth.  [Exit. 

For.  Thus  hath  the  candle  findgM  the  moth  : 
O  thefe  deliberate  fools  !  when  they  do  chufe, 
They  Uave  the  wiflom  by  their  wit  to  lofe. 

Ner  The  ancient  faying  is  no  hercfy, 
Hanging  and  wiving  goe?  by  deftiny. 

For.  Come,  draw  the  curtain,  Kerijfa, 
Enter  a  Servant. 

Serv.  Where  is  my  lady  ? 

Por.  Here,  what  would  my  lord? 

Serv.  Midajn,  there  is  alighted  at  your  gate 
A  young  Venetian,  one  that  comes  before 
To  fignify  tb'  approaching  of  his  lord, 

B  f  .  From 


j+      The  Merchant  of  Venice. 


From  whom  he  bringeth  fenfiblc  regreets; 

To  wit,  bclides  com. mends  and  courteous  breath, 

Gifts  of  rich  value  \  yet  I  have  not  feen 

So  likfly  an  ambaflador  of  love. 

A  day  in  A^ril  never  came  fo  fweet. 

To  fhow  how  coftly  fummer  was  at  hand, 

As  this  fore-fpurrer  comes  before  his  lord* 

Vor,  No  mx)re  I  pray  thee  \  I  am  half  afraid 
Thou'lt  fay  anon^  he  is  feme  kin  to  thee, 
Thou  fpend^'ft  fuch  high-day  wit  in  praifing  him: 
Come,  come,  Neriffa,  for  I  long  ro  fee 
Quick  Cufids  poft.,  that  comes  fo  mannerly. 

hler.  BaJ[anio  lord,  Love  !  if  thy  will  it  be  ! 

[Exeunt,. 


ACT    ni.     S  C  E  N  E  L 

Ve  N  I  C  E. 
Enter  Salanio  and  Solarino- 

S  O  L  A  R  I  N  a; 

NOW,  what"  news  on  the  Ryaltd  ? 
Sal.  Why  yet  it  lives  there  uncheckt,  that 
M^nthonis  bath  a  fhip  of  rich  lading  wrackt  on  the 
narrow  feas  f  the  Goodmm^  I  think  they  call  the  places 
a  v*ry  dangerous  flat  and  faral,  where  the  carcal&s 
©f  many  a  taJl  fhip  lie  bury'd,  as  they  fay,  if  mj 
*  g^^'P  R^forp  be  an  honed  woman  af  her  word. 

Soi/k.  I  would  fhe  were  as  lying  a  goflip  in  that,  as 
ever  knapt  ginger,,  or  made  her  neighbours  believe  fhe 
wept  for  the  death  of  a  third  husband.  But  it  is  true,, 
witnout  any  (lips  of  prolixity,  or  eroding  the  plain 
high-way  of  talk,  that  the  good  Anthonioy  th«  honeft^ 

Jnthonio.  O  that  I  had  a.  title  good-  enough  CD- 

keep  his  name  company.;. 
SaL  Come,  the  full  flop* 

Ha,  what  fay'ft  thou  ?  why  the  end  is,  he  hatfe 
Ibiiafhif. 


The  Merchant  of  Venice.     3  j 


SbiX,  I  would  it  might  prore  the  end  of  his  loffes. 

Solt^,  Let  me  fay  Amm  betimes,  left  the  devil  crofs 
my  prayer  ^  for  here  he  comes  in  the  likenefs  of  a 
Ji-m,  How  now  Shyluky  what  news  among  tiie  mer- 
chants r 

£«rer  Shylock. 
5^y.  You  knew  (hone  fa  well,  none  To  well  as  you) 
of  my  daughter's  flight 

Sai.  That's  certain  j  I  for  my  part  knew  the  taylor 
thar  made  the  win^s  fhe  flew  withal. 

And  shylock  for  his  own  part  knew  the  bird 
w^s  fledgM,  and  then  it  is  the  complcdtion  of  them  aH' 
to  leave  the  dam. 

tSA^.  She  is  damn'd  for  it. 

Sal.  That's  certain,  if  the  devil  may  be  here  judgcr 

shy.  My  own  fle?i  and  blood  to  rebel! 

Sola,  Out  upon  ir,  oii  carrion,  rebels  it  at  thcic 

*  ycais  ? 

shy.  I  fay,  my  daughter  is  my  flefh  and  blood. 

Sal.  There  is  more  difference  between  thy  flefh  and 
hers,  than  between  jet  and  ivory  j  more  between  your 
bloods,  than  there  is  berween  red  wine  and  rhenifh : 
but  tell  us,  do  you  hear  whether  Anthonio  have  had  any 
lofs  at  fea  or  no  ? 

shy  There  T  have  anoiher  bad  match  j  a  bankrupt, 
a  prodigal,  v/ho  dares  fcarcc  fhew  his  head  or>  the 
I^also,  a  beggar  that  U5*d  to  come  fo  Imug  upon  the 
mart  I  let  him  look  to  his^  bond  ;  he  was  W(  nt  to  call 
me  ufjrer  y  let  him  look  to  his  bond  j  he  was  wont  to 
lend  money  for  a:  chriftian  courtefie  j  let  him  look  to 
h\s  bond, 

Sal.  Why  I  am  fure  if  he  forfeit,  thou  wilt  not  take 
his  flcfhi:  what's  that  good  for  j 

Shy.  To  bait  fifh  wirhal.  If  it  will  fe-ed  nothing  dfe, 
ir  will  feed  my  revenge  ,  he  hath  Hiig-^ac'd  me,  an  i  hin- 
der*d  me  half  a  mill  on,  laughr  at  my  loffes,  mockt  at 
ray  gains,  fcorn'd  my  nation,  thwarted  my  bargains, 
cool'd  my  friends,  heated  miie  enemies  j  aiid  what's 
hi^  reafon  5  1  am  a  Je-sp;  Hath  n^Jt  a  Jew  eyes;  hath 
not  a  JeTP  hands,  organs,  dimeniions,  fcnfes  affe- 
^  ons,  p-ilTioas  j  f;i  with  the  fame  food,  hurt  with 

*  umes,  the 


3  6     The  Merchant  of  Venice. 


the  fame  weapons,  fubjeft  to  the  fame  difeafes,  heard 
by  the  fame  means,  waim'd  and  cool'd  by  the  fame 
winter  and  fa mmer  as  a  chriftian  is?  If  you  prick  us, 
do  we  not  bleed  ?  if  you  tickle  us,  do  we  not  laugh  ? 
if  you  poifon  us,  do  we  not  die?  and  if  you  wrong  us, 
fhail  we  not  revenge?  If  we  areh'ke  you  in  the  reft, 
we  will  refemble  you  in  that.  If  a  Jevcf  wrong  a 
chriftian,  what  is  his  humiliry  ?  Revenge.  If  a  chri- 
ftian  wrong  a  Jeto,  what  fhould  his  fufferance  be  by 
chriftian  example:  why  Revenge.  The  villany  you 
teach  me  I  will  execute,  and  it  fliall  go  hard  but  I  will 
better  the  inflrudtion 

Enter  a  fer*vant  from  Anthonio. 

Ser.  Gentlemen,  my  mafter  AntPjonio  is  at  hi$  houfe, 
and  defires  to  fpeak  with  you  both. 

5^/.  We  have  been  up  and  down  to  feek  him. 
Enter  Tubal!. 

Sola,  Here  comes  another  of  the  tribe;  a  third  can- 
not be  matched,  unlefs  the  devil  himfelf  turn  Jew. 

[Exeunt  Sala.  and  Solar. 

Shy.  How  now,  TubalU  what  news  from  Gerwtia  f 
haft  thou  found  my  daughter? 

Tub.  I  often  came  where  I  did  hear  of  her,  but  can- 
not find  her. 

Shy.  Why  there,  there,  there,  th?re  !  a  diamond 
gone  coft  me  two  thoufand  ducats  in  Frar>kfort  !  the 
curfe  never  fell  ufKjn  our  nation  'rill  now,  I  never 
felt  it  'till  now  ?  two  thoufind  ducats  in  ihar,  and 
other  precious,  precious  jewels!  I  would  my  daugh- 
ter wer^j  dead  at  my  foot,  and  the  jewels  in  her  ear  ! 
O  would  flie  were  hcrs'd  at  my  foot,  and  the  ducats 
in  her  coffin.  No  news  of  them,-  why,  fo !  and  I 
know  not  what's  fpent  in  the  fearch :  why  then  lofs 
upon  lofs  i  the  thief  gone  with  fo  much,  and  fo  much 
to  find  the  thief i  and  no  fatisf:i6lion,  no  revenge,  nor 
no  ill  luck  ftirring,  but  what  lights  o'  my  fhoulders, 
no  fighs  but  o'  my  breathing,  no  tears  but  o'  my  ftied- 
ding. 

Tab.  Yes,  other  m^n  have  ill  luck  too  j  Anthonio, 

a$  1  heard  in  Genoua  

Shy,  What,  v/hat,  ill  luck;  ill  !uck  ? 

Tnb, 


The  Merchant  of  Venice.     3  7 

Tab,  Hath  an  Argofie  call  away,  coming  from  Tri- 
folis  r 

shy.  I  thank  God,  lhank  God  j  is  it  true  ?  is  ic 
true  ? 

Tub.  I  fpoke  with  fome  of  the  failors  that  efcaped 
the  wrack. 

Sky.  I  thank  thee,  good  Tuball  i  good  news,  good 
news ;  ha,  ha,  where?  in  Genoua  ? 

Tub,  Your  daughter  fpent  in  Genoua,  as  I  heard,  one 
night  fourfcore  ducats. 

Shy.  Thou  ftick'ft  a  dagger  in  me  i  I  (hall  never  fee 
my  gold  again  j  fourfcore  ducats  at  a  fitting,  four- 
fcore ducats  ! 

Tub,  There  came  divers  of  Anthonlo's  creditors  in 
•my  company  to  Venice^  that  fwcar  he  cannot  chufc  but 
break. 

Shy.  I  am  glad  of  it,  I'll  plague  him,  I'll  torture 
him  j  I'm  glad  of  it. 

Tub.  One  of  them  fhew'd  me  a  ring  that  he  had  of 
your  daughter  for  a  monkey. 

shy.  Out  upon  her,  thou  tortured  me,  Tubxll^  ic 
was  my  Turquoife,  I  had  it  of  Leah  when  I  was  a  bat- 
chelorj  1  would  not  have  given  iC  ror  a  wildcrnefs  of 
monkies. 

Tub.  But  Jnthonio  is  certainly  undone. 

shy.  Nay,  that's  true,  that's  very  rruej  go  fee  me  an 
officer,  befpeak  him  a  fortnight  before.  I  will  have 
the  heart  ot  him,  if  he  forfeit  j  for  were  he  out  of  Ve- 
nice^ I  can  make  what  merchandize  I  will  :  go,  go 
Tubnll,  and  mee;  me  at  our  fynagogue  j  go,  good  Tu- 
ball  j  at  our  fynagogue,  Tuball.  [Exemf, 

SCENE    II.    Bel  mont. 
Enter  BaHanio,  Portia,  Gratiano.  a?ul  Attendants, 
The  Caskets  are  fet  out. 

Tor,  I  pray  you  tarry,  paufe  a  day  or  two 
Before  you  hazard  i  for  in  chufing  wrong 
I  lofc  your  company ;  forbear  a  while. 
Therc*s  fomcthing  tells  me  (but  it  is  nor  love) 
I  would  not  lofe  you  j  and  you  know  yourfclf, 
Hate  counlcls  not  in  fuch  a  quality. 

But 


3  S       The  Merchant  of  Venice. 


But  left  you  fhould  not  underftand  me  well, 
And  yet  a  maiden  hath  no  tongue  but  thought^ 
I  would  detain  you  he:*c  (bme  month  or  two, 
Before  you  venture  for  mc.    I  could  teach  you 
How  to  chufe  right,  but  I  am  then  foifworn 
So  will  I  never  be,  £b  may  you  mils  me  j 
But  if  you  do,  you'll  make  me  wifli  a  fin, 
That  I  had  been  forfworn.    BeRircw  your  eyes. 
They  have  o'erlookM  me,  and  divided  mej 
One  half  of  me  is  yours,  the  other  half 
Mine  own,  I  would  fay  :  but  if  mine,  then  yours 
And  fo  all  yours.    Alas!*thefe  naughty  times 
Put  bars  between  the  owners  aad  their  rights  : 
And'  fo  tho*  yours,  not  yours  j  prove  it  fo, 
Let  fortune- go  to  hell  for  it,  not  I. 
I  fpeak  too  long,  but  'tis  to  piece  the  time-, 
To  eche  it  out,  and^draw  it  oat  in  len;^th. 
To  ftay  you  from  eleifVion. 

Bujf.  Let  me  chufe  : 
For  as  I  am,  1  live  upon  the  rack. 

Par.  Upon  the  rack,  Bajfanto  f  then  confels 
What  treafon  there  is  mingled  with  your  love? 

Bujf.  None  but  that  ugly  trcafon  of  miftruft. 
Which  makes  m^  fear  rh'  enj-oying  of  my  k)ve: 
There  may  as  well  be  amity  and  life 
■"Tween  fnow  and  fire,  as  treafon  and  my  love. 

Tor,  Ay,  but  I  fear  you  fpeak  upon  the  rack. 
Where  men  enforced  do  fpeak  any  tl  ing. 

Bajf^  Promiie  me  life,  and  Til  confefs  the  truth. 
Tor.  Well  then,  confefs  and  live. 
Baff  Confefs  and  love 
Had  been  the  very  fjm  of  my  confcffion, 
G  happy  torment,  when  my  torturer 

Doth  teach  me  anfwers  for  deliverance! 
But  let  me  to  my  fortune  and  the  caskets. 
Por.  Away  then.    I  am  iockt  in  one  of  them, 

If  you  do  love  me,  you  will  find  me  out.. 

Nerijfa  and  the  rei\  Itand  all  aloof. 

Let  mufick  found  while  he  doth  make  his  choice  ; 

Then  if  he  lofe,  he  maket  a  fwan-like  end, 

fading  in.  mufick.    That  the.  campari&n 


Tke  Merchant  of  Venice.  35^ 

stay  ftand  more  juft,  my  eye  fhall  be  the  ftream 
knd  wat'ry  death-bed  for  him  :  he  may  win, 
And  what  is  mufick  then  ?  then  mufick  is 
lEven  as  the  flourifli,  when  true  fubje^s  bow 
[To  a  new  crowned  monai^ch:  fuch  it  is, 
As  are  thofe  dulcet  founds  in  break  of  day, 
That  creep  into  the  dreaming  bridegroom's  ear^ 
And  furamon  him  to  marriage.    Now  he  goes 
With  no  Icfs  prefence  but  with  much  more  love, 
Than  young  Alcides,  when  he  did  redeem 
The  virgia-tributc  paid  by  howling  Troy 
To  the  fea  monfter  :  I  ftand  for  facrifice  5^ 
The  reft  aloof  arc  the  Bur^anian  wives. 
With  bleared  vifages  came  forth  to  view 
The  iffuc  of  th'  exploit.    Go  Hercfilesy 
Live  thou,  I  live  i  with  much,  much  more  difmay 
i  view  the  fight,  than  thou  that  mak'ft  the  fray. 

[Mufick  whhif^ 
A  Song  whilji  Baflanio  comments  on  the  caskets  to 
himfelf. 

Tell  me  -where  is  funcy  bred. 

Or  in  the  hearty  or  in  the  head  I 

How  begot y  hove  nourtfhed  I 

Rsply,  reply. 

It  is  eng€nder'd  in  the  eye^ 
IVith  gazing  Jtd,  and  fancy  dies- 
In  the  cradle  where  it  lies : 
Let  us  all  ring  fancy's  kmlL 
ril  begin  it. 
Dingy  dongy  6elL 

All.  Dingy  dong,  bell. 

Bajf.  So  may  t  he  outward  fhows  be  kaft  themfclves: 
The  world  is  Hill  deceiv'd  with  ornament. 
In  law  what  plea  fo  tainted  and  corrupr,^ 
But  being  ftafon*d  with  a  gracious  voice,  I 
Obfcures  the  (bow  of  evil  ?  in  religion  ; 
What  damned  error,  but  Ibme  fobcr  brow 
Will  hlefs  it,  and  approve  it  with  a  text. 
Hiding  the  groffiiefc  with  fair  ornament  I 
Tbere  is  no  vice  lb  iimple,  but  afTumes 


40     The  Merchant  of  Venice. 

Some  mark  of  virtue,  on  his  outward  parts. 

How  many  cowards,  whole  hearts  are  all  as  falfc 

As  ftairs  of  fand,  wear  yet  upon  their  chins 

The  beards  of  Hercules  and  frowning  Murs ; 

Who  inward  fcarcht,  have  livers  white  as  milk  ? 

And  thefe  afliime  but  valour's  excrement, 

To  render  them  redoubted.    Look  on  beauty, 

And  you  (hall  fee  'tis  purchased  by  the  weight, 

Which  therein  works  a  miracle  in  nature, 

Making  them  ligbteft  that  wear  moft  of  it: 

So  are  thofe  crifped  fnaky  golden  locks 

Which  make  fuch  wanton  gambols  with  the  wind 

Upon  fuppofed  fairnefs,  often  known 

To  be  the  dowry  of  a  fecond  head, 

The  skull  that  bred  them,  in  the  fepulchre. 

Thus  Ornament  is  bat  the  gilded  fhore 

To  a  moft  dang'rous  fea^  the  beautflous  fcarf 

Veiling  an  Indian  beauty  j  in  a  word, 

The  feeming  truth  which  cunning  times  put  on 

T  entrap  the  wifeft.    Then  thou  gaudy  gold, 

Hard  food  for  Midas,  I  will  none  of  thee: 

Nor  none  of  thee,  ihpu  pale  and  common  drudge 

'Tween  man  and  man  :  but  thou,  thou  meager  lead, 

Which  rather  threatneft  than  doft  proraife  aught  j 

Thy  palenefs  moves  me  more  than  eloquence, 

And  here  chufe  1,  joy  be  the  confequence. 

Vor.  How  all  the  other  pallions  fleet  to  air. 
As  doubtful  thoughts  and  rafh  embraced  defpair. 
And  fhadd'ring  fear,  and  green- ey 'd  jeaioufie, 

0  love  be  mode;  ate,  allay  rhy  ecftafiei 
In  meafure  r^in  thy  joy,  fcant  this  txceft, 

1  feel  too  much  thy  bleffing  j  make  it  lefs 

For  fear  I  furfeit.  [O^^ening  the  ieaJ^  j^aik^ 

What  find  I  here  r 
Fair  Portia's  counterfeit?  what  Demy-god 
Hath  come  fo  near  creation?  move  thefe  eyes  r 
Or  whether  ridi^ng  on  the  balls  of  mine 
Seem  they  in  motion  ?  here  are  fever'd  lips 
Parted  with  fugar^d  breath  \  fo  fweet  a  bar 
Should  funder  fuch  fweet  friefids:  here  in  her  hairs 
The  painter  plays  the  f]^13er,  and^  hatlj  woven 


The  Merchant  of  Venice.  41 


A  golden  mefh  t'nntrap  the  hearts  of  men 

Faftepthaa  gnats  in  cobwebs:  but  her  eyes, 

How  could  he  fee  to  do  them?  having  made  one, 

M^hinks  it  fliould  have  pow'r  to  fteal  both  his, 

And  leave  it  felf  *  unfinilh'd  :  yet  how  far 

The  fubftance  of  my  praife  doth  wrong  this  (hadow> 

In  underprifing  it,     far  this  fhadow 

Doth  limp  behind  the  fubftance.    Here's  the  fcrowl. 

The  continent  and  fummary  of  my  fortune. 

Ten  that  chufe  not  by  the  view, 
Cimnee  as  fair y  and  chufe  as  true : 
Since  this  fortune  falls  toyoUy 
Be  content,  andfeek  no  new. 
If  you  be  well  fleas' d  with  this^ 
And  hold  your  fortune  for  your  blift^ 
Turn  you  where  your  lady  is, 
And  claim  her  with  a  loving  ktfs, 

A  gent!?  fcrowl^  fair  lady,  by  your  leavc,  [Kijing  herl 

I  come  by  note  to  give,  and  to  receive. 

Like  one  of  two  contending  in  a  prize, 

That  thinks  he  hath  done  well  in  people's  eycsj 

Hearing  applaufe  and  univerfal  (hout, 

Q\ddy  in  fpirit,  gazing  ftill  in  doubt, 

Whether  thofc  peals  of  praife  be  his  or  no> 

So  (thrice  fair  lady)  (land  I,  even  fo, 

As  doubtful  whether  what  I  fee  be  true. 

Until  confirmed,  fign'd,  ratify'd  by  you. 

Por.  You  fee,  my  lord  Baffanio,  where  I  (land, 
Such  as  1  am  ;  tho'  for  my  felf  alone, 
I  would  not  be  ambitious  in  my  wifh, 
To  wifh  my  felf  much  better;  yet  for  you, 
I  would  be  trebled  twenty  times  my  felf, 
A  choufand  times'more  fair,  ttn  thoufand  time$ 
More  rich,  that  to  (land  high  in  your  account 
I  might  in  virtues,  beauties,  Jiving?,  friends. 
Exceed  account :  but  the  full  fum  of  me 
Is  fum  of  nothing,  which  to  term  in  grofs, 
Is  an  unleflbn'd  girl,  unfchool'd,  unpradiis'd, 
Happy  in  this,  (he  is  not  yet  fo  old 
Bat  fhc  may  learn  i  more  happy  than  in  this, 

♦  Hnfurnijh'd.  She' 


The  Merchant  ^Venice. 

She  is  not  bred  fo  dull  but  fhe  can  learn ^ 
Happieft  of  art  is,  that  her  gentle  fpiric 
Commits  itfelf  to  yours  to  be  diredled, 
As  from  her  lord,  hsr  governor,  her  king ; 
Myfelf,  and  what  is  mine,  to  yon  and  yours 
Is  now  converted.    1  but  now  was  lady 
Of  this  fair  manfion,  miftrefs  of  my  fervants. 
Queen  o'er  myfelf  j  and  even  now,  but  now 
This  houfe,  thefe  fervants,  and  this  fame  myfelf 
Are  yours,  my  lord  :  I  give  them  with  this  ring. 
Which  when  you  part  from,  lofe  or  give  away, 
Let  it  prefage  the  ruin  of  your  love. 
And  be  my  vantage  to  exclaim  on  you. 

Bi^jf.  Madam,  you  have  bereft  me  of  all  words, 
Only  my  blood  fpeaks  to  you  in  my  veins  j 
And  there  is  fuch  confuHon  in  my  pow'rs, 
As  after  fome  oration  fairly  fpoke 
By  a  beloved  prince,  there  doth  appear 
Among  the  buzzing  pleafed  multitude. 
Where  every  fomething  being  blent  together, 
Turns  to  a  wild  of  no  hing,  fave  of  joy 
Expreft,  and  not  expreft.    But  when  this  ring 
Parts  from  this  finger,  then  parts  life  from  hencep 
G  then  be  bold  to  fay,  Bajfinio^s  dead. 

Ner.  My  lord  and  lady,  it  is  now  our  timo. 
That  have  ftood  by,  and  feen  our  wilhes  profper. 
To  cry  good  joy,  good  joy,  my  lord  and  lady. 

Gra.  My  lord  Bajfanioy  and  my  gentle  ladyt 
I  wifh  you_  all  the  joy  that  you  can  wiHi  y 
For  I  am  fure  you  can  wifti  none  for  me  : 
And  when  your  honours  mean  to  folemnize 
The  bargain  of  your  faith,  I  do  beieech  you 
Ev*n  at  that  time  I  may  be  married  too. 

Bag,  With  all  my  heart,  fo  thou  canft  get  a  wife. 

Gra.  I  thank  your  lordfhip,  you  have:got  me  one. 
My  eyes,  my  lord,  can  look  as  fwift  as  your-s; 
You  faw  the  miflrefs,  1  beheld  the  maid} 
You  lov'd  5  I  lov'd  for  intermiffion. 
No  more  pertiins  to  me,  my  lord,  than  you. 
Your  fortune  ftood  upon  the  casket  there, 
And  fo  did  mine  too  as  the  matter  falls  : 

Fo 


The  Merehant  of  Venice,       4  j 


^or  wooing  here  until  I  fw^at  again, 

And  fwcaring  *tiil  my  very  roof  was  dry, 

With  oaths  of  love  at  laft,  if  promife  laft^ 

[  got  a  promife  of  this  fair  one  here, 

To  have  her  love,  provided  that  your  fortune 

^tchicvM  her  miftrefs. 

Por.  Is  this  true,  Nerijfa  T 

N'er,  Madam,  it  is,  fo  you  (land  plcas'd  withal. 

Bajf.  And  do  you,  Gratlan9^  mean  good  faith  ? 

Grx.  Yes,  faith,  my  lord,  [i"iagC; 

Baff.  Our  feaft  fball  be  much  honour'd  in  your  mar- 

Gra.  We'll  play  with  them,  the  firft  boy  for  a  thou*' 
.and  ducats. 

Ker,  What,  and  ftake  down  ? 

Gr£t>.  No,  wcflialine*er  win  at  that  fport,  and  ftake- 
down. 

But  who  comes  here  ?  Lorensio  and  his  infidel? 
What,  and  my  old  rmef^i".  friend,  Sahn:oJ. 

SCENE  III. 
Enter  Lorenzo,  Jellica,  and  Salanio. 

Baff.  Lorenzo  and  SaUnio,  welcome  hither. 
If  that  the  youth  of  my  new  intereft  here 
Have  power  to  bid  you  welcome.    By  your  leave 
I  bid  my  very  friends  and  couutry-men, 
(Sweet  Portia)  welcome. 

For,  So  do  I,  my  lord  ;  they  are  intirely  welcome. 

Lor.  I  thank  your  honour:  for  my  part,  my  lord? 
My  purpofe  was  not  to  have  fcen  you  here, 
But  meeting  with  Salanio  by  the  way 
|He  did  intreat  me  paft  all  faying  nay. 
|To  come  with  him  along, 
j    Sal.  I  did,  my  lord, 
'And  I  have  reafon  for'c }  Signior  Anthonto 
Commends  him  to  you. 

Bajf.  E'er  I  ope  his  letter, 
I  pray  you  tell  m^  how  my  good  friend  d©th. 

SaL  Not  (ick,  my  lord,  unlcfs  it  be  in  mind: 
Nor  well,  unlefs  in  mind  *,  his  letter  there 
Will  (hew  you  his  cftatc. 

Baflanift 


44-  Merchant  of  Venice, 


Baffanio  opem  the  Utter. 

GrA.  Neriffit.chttT  yond  ftf anger.    Bid  her  welcome. 
Your  hand,  SaUnio;  what's  the  news  from  Vmcet  \ 
How  doth  that  royal  merchanr,  good  Jnthofiio  ? 
X  know  he  will  be  glad  of  our  fuccefs  : 
We  are  the  Jii[om,  we  have  won  the  fleece. 

SaI.  Would  you  had  won  the  fleece  that  he  hath  loft. 

for.  There  are  ibme  fhrewd  cpntents  in  yond  fame 
paper, 

That  ftea!  the  colour  from  J5^jf^»i(?'s  cheek: 

Some  dear  friend  dead,  elfe  nothing  in  the  world 

Could  turn  fo  much  the  conftitution 

Of  any  conftant  man.    What,  worfc  and  worfc? 

With  leave,  BaJfaniOy  1  am  half  yourfelf, 

And  I  muft  have  the  half  of  any  thing 

That  this  fame  paper  brings  you, 

Baff,  O  fweet  Tortit^  / 
Here  are  a  few  of  the  unpleafani'll  words 
That  ever  blotted  paper.    Gentle  lady, 
When  I  did  firft  impart  my  love  to  you, 
1  freely  told  you,  all  the  wealth  I  had 
Ran  in  my  veins,  I  was  a  gentleman; 
And  then  I  told  you  true^  and  yet  dear  lady^ 
Rating  myfelf  at  nothing  you  (hall  fee 
How  much  I  was  a  braggart :  when  I  told  ypu 
My  ftate  was  nothing,  I  (hould  then  have  told  yovjf 
That  I  was  worfe  than  nothing.    For  indeed 
I  have  engag'd  myfelf  to  a  dear  friend  \ 
Engag'd  my  friend  to  his  mcer  enemy, 
To  feed  my  means.    Here  is  a  letter,  lady. 
The  paper  is  the  body  of  my  friend, 
And  every  word  in  it  a  gaping  wound, 
Ifluing  life-blood.    But  is  it  true,  Sdaniot 
Have  all  his  ventures  fail'd  ?  what,  not  one  hit 
From  Tripolh,  from  Mexico,  from  EngUnii 
From  Lishn,  Bariaryy  and  India  I 
And  not  one  veffel  'fcap'd  the  dreadful  touch 
Of  merchant-marring  rocks  ? 

Sal.  Not  one,  my  lord. 
Befides  it  (hould  appear^  that  if  he  had 

The 


The  Merchant  ^t/"  Venice,  45 

l^e  prefent  money  to  difcharge  the  Jevp, 
He  wouM  not  take  it.    Never  did  I  know 
A  creature  that  did  bear  the  fhape  of  man, 
So  keen  and  greedy  to  confound  a  man. 
He  plies  the  Diike  at  morning  and  at  night. 
And  doth  impeach  the  freedom  of  the  ftate. 
If  they  deny  him  juftice.    Twenty  merchants. 
The  Duke  himfclf,  and  the  Magnificoes 
Of  greateft  port  have  all  perfuaded  with  him, 
But  none  can  drive  him  from  the  envious  plea 
Of  forfeiture,  of  juftice,  and  his  bond. 

Jef.  When  I  was  with  him,  I  have  heard  I'iim  fwear. 
To  TubM  and  to  Chus  his  country-men, 
That  he  woc'd  rather  have  Anthonio's  flefh. 
Than  twenty  times  the  value  of  the  fum 
That  he  did  owe  him  i  and  I  know,  ray  lord, 
If  law,  authority,  and  powV  deny  not. 
It  will  go  hard  with  poor  Anthcnk, 

F0r.  Is  it  your  dear  friend  that  is  thus  in  trouble? 

Bajf  The  deareft  friend  to  me,  the  kindeft  man, 
The  beft-conditiofi'd  and  unweary'd  fpirit 
In  doing  courtefiesj  and  one  in  whom 
The  ancient  Roman  honour  more  appears 
Than  any  that  draws  breath  in  Italy, 

For.  What  fum  owes  he  the  yen>  ? 

Bajf.  For  me  three  thoufand  ducats. 

T(fr,  What,  no  more? 
Pay  him  fix  thoufand,  and  deface  the  bond-j 
Double  Iix  thoufand,  and  then  treble  that, 
Before  a  friend  of  this  defcription 
Shall  lofe  a  hair  through  my  Bajfanid*s  fault. 
Firfl  go  with  me  to  church,  and  call  me  wife, 
And  then  away  to  Venice  to  your  friend  : 
For  never  fhall  you  lie  by  Portta^s  fide 
With  an  unquiet  foul.    You  fhall  have  gold 
To  pay  the  petty  debt  twenty  times  over. 
When  it  is  paid,  bring  your  true  friend  along. 
My  maid  Nerijfa  and  myfelf  mean  time 
Will  live  as  maids  and  widows  :  come  away. 

For 


46     The  Merchant  of  Venice.  \ 

For  you  (hall  hence  upon  your  wedding-day.  * 
But  let  me  hear  the  letter  of  your  friend. 

Bajf.  reads.  Sr»en  BalTanio,  my  jfhips  have  all  mif 
tarry  d,  my  creditors  grow  cruel,  my  eft  ate  is  very  low. 
my  bond  to  the  Jew  is  forfeit ;  and  fince  in  faying  it,  i 
is  impojpile  I  fhould  live,  all  debts  are  cleared  between 
i^OH  and  me^  if  I  might  but  fee  you  at  my  death  j  not 
with/landing  ufe  your  pleafure :  if  your  love  do  not  per' 
fuade  you  to  come,  iet  not  my  letter,  \ 

Tor,  O  love!  difpatch  all  bufinefs,  and  be  gone, 
BaJf,  Since  I  have  your  good  leave  to  go  away, 
I  will  make  hafte;  but  till  I  come  again,  ! 
No  bed  ftiall  e'er  be  guilty  of  my  ftay. 

Nor  reft  be  interpofcr  'twixt  us  twain.  [Exetmt\ 

SCENE   IV.  Venice. 
Enter  Shylock,  Solarino,  Anthonio,  W  fi^^Goalcfs, 

Shy,  Goaler,  look  to  him :  tell  not  me  of  mercy, 
This  is  the  fool  that  lent  out  money  gratis, 
Goaler,  look  to  him. 

Ant.  Here  me  yet,  good  Shylock,  ^ 

Shy,  ril  have  my  bond  j  fpeak  not  againft  my  bond  i 
I'velworn  an  oath  that  1  will  have  my  bond. 
Thou  call'dft  me  dog  before  thou  hadft  a  caufe  j 
But  fince  I  am  a  dog,  beware  my  fangs; 
The  Duke  (hall  grant  me  juftice.    I  do  wondej, 
Thou  naughty  goaler,  that  thou  art  fo  fond  | 
To  come  abroad  with  him  at  his  requeft.  { 

jint,  I  pray  thee  hear  me  fpeak. 

Shy,  ril  have  my  bond :  I  will  not  hear  thee  fpeaki 
I'll  have  my  bond,*  and  therefore  fpeak  no  raore^ 
rB  not  be  made  a  foft  and  duU-eyM  fool,  \ 
To  {h^e  the  bead,  relent,  and  figh  and  yield  - 

Td 

*       your  wedding-day. 
Bid  your  friends  welcome,  (hew  a  merry  cheer  5 
Since  you  are  dear  bought,  I  will  love  you  dear. 
But  let  me  hear,  ^c. 


The  Merchant  of  Venice.  47 


To  chriftian  interceflbrs.    Follow  not ;  ^ 
rS  have  no  fpeaking  j  I  will  have  my  bond. 

[Exit  Shylock, 

It  is  the  mod  impenetrable  cur 
That  ever  kept  with  men. 

Ant.  Let  him  alone, 
ni  follow  him  no  more  with  bootlcfs  pray'rs^ 
He  feeks  my  life  j  his  rcafon  well  1  know  } 
I  ofc  deliver'd  from  his  forfeitures 
Many  that  have  at  times  made  moan  to  me  ^ 
Therefore  he  hates  me. 

Sola.  I  am  Ture  the  Duke 
Will  never  grant  this  forfeiture  to  hold. 

Ant,  The  Duke  cannot  deny  the  courfe  of  law; 
Por  the  commodity  that  ftrangers  have 

With  us  in  Venicti  if  it  be  dcny'd. 

Will  much  impeach  the  juftice  of  the  ftate, 

Since  that  the  trade  and  profit  of  the  city 

Confifteth  of  all  nations.    Therefore  go, 

Thefe  griefs  and  loffes  have  fo  bated  me. 

That  I  (hall  hardly  fpare  a  pound  of  flefli 

To-morrow  to  my  bloody  creditor. 

Well,  goaler,  on  j  pray  God  Bajfanh  come 

To  fee  me  pay  his  debt,  and  then  I  care  not !  [Exeunt. 

S  C.E  N  E   V.   BEiMON  T. 

EnttT  Portia,  Ncriffa,  Lorenzo,  Jcflica,  and  a  yir- 
vant  of  PortiaV. 

Lor.  Madam,  although  I  fpeak  it  in  your  prefeacc. 
You  have  a  noble  and  a  true  conceit 
Of  God-like  amity,  which  appears  ftrongly 
In  bearing  thus  the  abfcnce  of  your  lord. 
But  if  you  knew  to  whom  you  (hew  this  honour. 
How  true  a  gentleman  you  fend  relief  to. 
How  dear  a  lover  of  my  lord  your  husband, 
I  know  you  would  be  prouder  of  the  work. 
Than  cuftomary  bounty  can  enforce  you. 

Tor.  I  never  did  repent  of  doing  good. 
And  (hall  not  now ;  for  in  companions 
That  do  convcrfc  and  wafte  the  time  together, 

Whofe 


48     The  Merchant  of  Venice. 


Whofe  fouls  cl#  bear  an  equal  yoke  of  love, 

There  muft  be  needs  a  like  proportion 

Of  lineaments,  of  manners,  and  of  fpirir; 

Which  makes  me  think  that  this  AnthoniOt 

Being  the  bofom-lover  of  my  lord, 

Muft  needs  be  like  my  lord.    If  it  be  fo. 

How  little  is  the  coft  I  have  beftow'd 

In  purchafing  the  femblance  of  my  foul 

From  out  the  ftate  of  helli(h  cruelty  ? 

This  comes  too  near  the  prailing  of  mylelfj 

Therefore  no  more  of  it :  here  other  things, 

LorenzOi  I  commit  into  your  hands. 

The  husbandry  and  manage  of  my  houfe, 

Until  my  lord's  return.    For  mine  own  part, 

I  have  tow'rd  heaven  breath'd  a  fccret  vow. 

To  live  in  prayer  ^nd  contemplation. 

Only  attended  by  Nerijft  here, 

Until  her  husband  and  my  lord's  return. 

There  is  a  monaftery  two  miles  off, 

And  there  we  will  abide.    I  do  define  you 

Not  to  deny  this  impoficion, 

The  which  my  love  and  foms  neceflfuy 

Now  lays  upon  you. 

Ler.  Madam,  with  all  my  heart, 
I  fliall  obey  you  in  all  fair  commands. 

For,  My  people  do  already  know  my  miod. 
And  will  acknowledge  yoj  and  J^ffica 
In  place  of  lord  Baffanio  and  myfeif. 
So  fare  you  well,  'till  we  fhall  meet  again. 

Lor.  Fair  thoughts  and  happy  hours  attend  oa  you. 

Jef  i  wi(h  your  ladyfhip  all  heart's  content. 

Per,  I  thank  you  for  your  wifli,  and  am  wcUplcas'd 
To  wilh  it  back  on  you  :  fare  you  vjd\,Je£jca> 

[Exeunt  Jcf.  AnJ  Lor. 

Now,  Bahhaz^ar, 

As  I  have  ever  found  thee  honeft,  true. 

So  let  me  find  thee  ftill :  take  this  fame  letter. 

And  ufe  thou  all  the  endeavours  of  a  man. 

In  fpeed  to  Mantua  5  fee  thou  render  this 

Into  my  coufin^s  hand,  do&or  BellariOi 

And  look  what  notes  and  garments  be  doth  give  thee, 


The  Merchant  ofVtmzcl  /s^9 


Bring  them,  I  pray  thee,  with  imagined  fpeed 
Unto  the  Trajeft,  to  the  common  ferry 
Which  trades  to  Venice :  wafte  no  time  in  words. 
But  get  thee  gone ;  I  (hall  be  there  before  thee. 

Bal.  Madam,  I  go  with  all  convenient  fpeed.  \^Exit. 

Por.  Come  on,  Neriffa,  I  have  work  in  hand 
That  yoa  yet  know  not  of :  we'll  fee  our  hufbands 
Before  they  think  of  us. 

AV.  Shall  they  fee  us  ? 

For.  They  fhall,  Neriffa ;  but  in  fuch  a  habit. 
That  they  fhall  thiwk  we  are  accomplilhed 
Witli,  what  we  lack.    Til  hold  thee  any  wager. 
When  we  are  both  apparell'd  like  young  men, 
ril  prove  the  prettier  fellow  of  the  tv/o. 
And  wear  my  dagger  with  the  braver  grace  ; 

*  And  fpeak  between  the  change  of  man  and  boy, 
'  With  a  reed  voice  ;  and  turn  two  mincing  fleps 

^  Into  a  manly  ftride,  and  fpeak  of  frays 

*  Like  a  fine  bragging  youth  ;  and  tell  quaint  Iye=?, 
^  How  honourable  ladies  fought  my  love, 

*  Which  I  denying,  they  fell  fick  and  dy'd, 

1  could  not  do  with  all :  then  Til  repent,  , 
And  wilh  for  all  that,  that  I  had  not  kili'd  them, 

*  And  twenty  of  thefe  puny  lyes  I'll  tell; 

*  That  men.fliall  fv/ear  I've  diicontinu'd  fchool 

*  Above  a  twelve-month.  I  have  in  my  mind 
\  thoufand  raw  tricks  of  thefe  bragging  jack%. 
Which  I  will  practife. 

A^-;*.  Shall  we  turn  to  men  ? 

Por.  ¥y,  v/hat  a  quclticn's  that, 
}f  thou  wert  near  a  icfwd  interpreter  ? 
But  come,  I'll  tell  thee  ail  my  whole  device 
When  I  am  in  my  coach,  which  fiays  for  us 
At  the  park-gate  ;  and  therefore  haile  away. 
For  we  ihuil  meafurc  twenty  miles  to-day.  [^Exeunt- 

'scene  VI. 
E^tier  Launcclot  and  JefTica. 
Laun.  Yes,  truly :  for  look  you,  the  fins  of  the  fa- 
th#r  are  to  be  laid  upon  tlie  children  ;  therefore  I.pro- 
inife  you>  I  fear  you.    I  was  always  plain  with  you: 
C  and 


f  o     The  Merchant  of  Venice. 


and  fo  now  I  fpeak  my  agitation  of  the  matter :  there- 
fore be  of  good  cheer  i  for  truly  I  think  you  are 
damn'd:  there  is  but  one  hope  in  it  that  can  do  you 
any  good,  and  that  is  but  a  kind  of  baftard-hope  nei- 
ther. 

Jef,  And  what  hope  is  that,  I  pray  thee  ? 
Lau^,  Marry  you  may  partly  hope  that  your  father 
got  you  not,  that  you  are  not  the  Jeiv's  daughter. 

Je/l  That  were  a  kind  of  baflard-hope  indeed;  fo 
the  fms  of  xny  mother  fhould  be  vifited  upon  me. 

Laun.  Truly  then  I  fear  you  are  damn'd  both  by 
father  and  mother ;  thus  when  you  fhun  Scy/Ia,  your 
father,  you  fall  into  Cbaribdis,  your  mother :  well,  you 
are  gone  both  ways. 

Jef,  I  fliall  be  faved  by  my  husband  ;  he  hath  made 
me  a  chriftian. 

Laun,  Truly  the  more  to  blame  he ;  we  were  chri- 
fliaas  enough  before,  e'en  as  many  as  could  well  live 
one  by  another  :  this  making  of  chrilHans  will  raife 
the  price  of  hogs  ;  if  we  grow  all  to  be  pork-eaters, 
we  Oiall  not  Ihortly  have  a  ^aflier  on  the  coals  fbr 
joiony.  ^ 

Enter  Lorenzo. 
Jef.  ril  tell  my  husband,  Launceloty  what  you  fay : 
^ere  he  comes. 

Lor,  I  fhall  grow  jealous  of  you  fhortly,  Launceloty 
if  yoa  thus  get  my  wife  into  corners. 

yef.  Nay,  you  need  not  f(?ar  us,  Lcrenzoi  Launce^ 
ht  and  I  are  Cut ;  he  tells  me  flatly,  there  is  no  mer- 
cy for  me  in  heav'n,  becaufe  I  am  a  JenjSs  daughter  : 
and  he  fays,  you  are  no  good  member  of  the  com- 
jnon-wealth  ;  for  in  converting  Jc-vjs  to  chrillians,  yon 
jaife  the  price  of  pork. 

Lor,  1  fliall  anlwer  that  better  to  the  common-, 
wealth  than  you  can-  the  getting  np  of  the  negro's 
belly  :  the  Moor  is  with  child  by  you,  Lamcelot, 

Lair'.  It  is  macU  that  the  Twicer  Ihould  be  more  than 
reafon  :  but  if  fne  be  lefs  than  an  hrju.eft  woman,  ihe 
is  indeed  more  than  I  took  her  for^ 

Lcr.  M  o\v  every  fool  can  play  upon  the  wcitJ  ! 
tUmk  tlve  beft  giace  of  wi:  wiil  Ihortly  turn  into  fi- 

Icnce, 

2 


The  Merchant  of  Venice.    5 1 


lence,  and  difcourfe  grow  commendable  in  none  but 
parrots.    Go  in,  .firrah,  bid  tiiem  prepare  for  dinner. 

Laun,  That  is  done.  Sir  ;  they  have  ail  llomachs. 

Lor.  Good  lord,  what  a  wit-fnapper  are  you  I  then 
bid  them  prepare  dinner. 

Laun.  That  is  done  too.  Sir;  only  cover  is  thd 
word. 

Lor,  Will  you  cover  then.  Sir? 

Laun,  Not  fo.  Sir,  neither;  I  know  my  duty. 

Lor,  Yet  more  quarrelling  with  occafion  !  wile  thou 
fhew  the  whole  wealth  of  thy  wit  in  an  inllant  ?  I 
pray  thee  underfland  a  plain  man  in  his  plain  mean- 
ing :  go  to  thy  fellows,  bid  them  cov^r  the  table,  ferve 
in  the  meat,  and  we  will  come  in  to  dinner. 

Laun,  For  tJie  table.  Sir,  it  fhall  be  ferv'd  in  ^  for 
the  meat.  Sir,  it  fhall  be  covered  ;  for  you  coming  in 
to  dinner.  Sir,  why  let  it  be  as  humours  and  conceits 
fhall  govern,  [Exit,  Laun. 

Lor,  O  dear  difcretion,  how  his  words  are  iuitedl 
'  The  fool  hath  planted  in  his  memory 

*  An  army  of  good  words ;  and  I  do  kndw 
'  A  many  fools  that  f^and  in  better  place, 

*  Garnifh'd  like  him,  that  for  a  trickiie  word 

*  Defie  the  matter  :  how  far'll  thou,  Jejjica  ? 
And  now,  good  fvveet,  fay  thy  opinion, 
How  doll  thou  like  the  lord  BaJJ'anio's  wife  ? 

Jef.  Paft  all  expreffing  :  it  is  very  meet 
The  lord  Boffanio  live.an  upright  life. 
For  having  luch  a  Blefling  in  his  Jady, 
He  hnds  the  joys  of  heaven  here  on  earth: 
And  if  on  earth  he  do  not  *  merit  it, 
II  In  reafon  he  fhould  never  come  to  heav'ji. 
Why,  if  two  Gods  fliould  play  fome  heav'nly  match^ 
And  on  the  wager  lay  two  earthly  women. 
And  Fortm  one,  there  mull  be  fometliing  elfe 
Pawn'd  with  the  other  ;  for  the  poor  rucie  world 
Hath  not  her  fellow.  . 

Lor,  Even  fuch  a  husband 
Hall  thou  of  me,  a«^  flie  is  for  4  wife, 
►   Jcf.  Nay,  but  a^k  my  opinion  too  of  that. 

IfOr,  1  will  anon  :  {\\\\  let  us  go  to  dinntr. 

C  2  j^r, 

*  mean       k  H  A  rcafju 


The  Merchant  ^/Venice. 


.  Jef,  Nay,  let  me  praife  you  while  I  have  a  ftomach. 
Lor,  No,  pray  thee,  let  it  ferv^  for  table-talk ; 
Then  howfoe'er  thou  fpeak'ft,  'mong  other  things, 
I  ihall  digeft  it. 

Jef.  Well,  ril  fet  you  forth.  \Exeunt. 


A  C  T    IV.     S  C  E  N  E  I. 

V  U      I  C  E, 

Enter  Z/?'^  Duke,  the  Senatorsy  Anthonio,  Baffanio, 
and  Gratiano. 

Duke. 

WHAT,  is  Anthonlo  Iiere  ? 
Ant.  Ready,  Tj  pleafe  your  Grace. 
Duke,  Ym  forry  for  thee^  thou  art  come  to  anfwer 
A  ilony  Adverfary,  an  inhuman  wretch 
Uncapable  of  Pity,  void  and  empty 
From  any  dram  of  mercy. 

Ant.  I  have  heard 
Your  Grace  hath  ta'en  great  pains  to  qualifie 
His  rig'rous  Gourfe  ;  but  fmce  he  fland^  obdurate. 
And  that  no  lawful  means  can  carry  me 
Out  of  his  envy's  reach,  I  do  oppofe 
My  patience  to  his  fury,  and  am  arm'd 
To  fufFer  with  a  quietnefs  of  fpirit 
The  very  tyranny  and  rage  of  his. 

Duke.  Go  on,  and  call  the  Je^jo  into  the  court. 
^al.  He's  ready  at  the  door :  he  comes,  my  Lord. 
Enter  Shylock. 

Duke.  Make  room,  and  let  him  iland  before  our  face, 
^-^yylocky  the  \\'orld  thinks,  and  I  think  fo  too. 
That  thou  but  lead'll:  this  fafhion  of  thy  malice 
To  the  laft  hour  of  a£l,  and  then  'tis  thought 
Thou'k  lliew  thy  mercy  and  remorfe  more  ftrange 
Than  is  thy  ftrange  apparent  cruelty. 
And  where  ihou  now  exad'jft  the  penalty, 
Which  is  a  pound  of  this  poor  merchant's  fielh. 
Thou  wilt  not  only  lofe  the  forfeiture, 


The  Merchant     Vcnkc,     5  3 

Bat  touched  with  human  gentlenefs  and  love. 
Forgive  a  moiety  of  the  principal ; 
Glancing  an  eye  of  pity  on  his  loffes 
That  have  of  late  fo  hudled  on  his  back 
Enough  to  prefs  a  royal  merchant  down, 
And  pluck  commiferation  of  his  ftate 
FrombralTy  bofoms,  and  rough  hearts  of  flint. 
From  ftubborn  l^urks  SindTartarSy  never  trair/d 
To  offices  of  tender  courtefie. 
We  all  expedl  a  gentle  anfvver,  y^'iv. 

S^y.  I  have  pollefs'd  your  Grace  of  w^hat  I  purpoie^ 
And  by  our  holy  Sabbath  have  I  fworn 
To  have  the  due  and  forfeit  of  my  bond. 
If  you  deny  it,  let  the  danger  light 
Upon'your  charter,  and  your  city's  freedom. 
You'll  ask  me  Vv  hy  .1  rather  chufe  to  have 
A  weight  of  carrion  flefh,  than  to  receive 
Three  thoufand  ducats  ?  FU  nctanrwcr  that. 
But  fay  it  is  my  humour,  is  it  aniwered  ? 
What  if  my  houfe  be  troubled  Vv  ith  a  rat. 
And  I  be  pleased  to  give  ten  thoufand  ducats 
To  have  it  bane'd  ?  what,  are  you  anfwer'd  yet  \ 
Some  men  there  are,  love  not  a  gaping  pig. 
Some  that  are  mad  if  they  behold  a  cat, 
And  others,  when  the  bag-pipe  fings  i'th  nofe. 
Cannot  contain  their  urine  for  affedtion. 
Mailerlefs  paffion  fways  it  to  the  mcod 
Of  what  it  iikes  or  loaths.    Now  for  your  anfwer  : 
As  there  is  no  firm  reafon  to  be  render'd 
Why  he  cannot  abide  a  gaping  pig. 
Why  he  a  harmlefs  neceffary  catj 
Why  he  a  woollen  bag-pipe,  but  of  force 
Mull  yield  to  fuch  inevitable  fliame, 
.As  to  offend,  himfelf  being  offended  ; 
So  can  I  give  no  reafon,  nor  I  will  not, 
IVTore  than  a  lodgM  hate  and  a  certain  loathing 
I  bear  Anthoniot  that  I  follow  thus 
A  lofmg  fuit  againft  him.    Are  you  anfwer'd  ? 

Bajf.  This  is  no  anfwer,  thou  unfeeling  man, 
T'excufe  the  current  of  thy  cruelty. 

^^v.  I  am  not  bound  to  pleafe  thee  with  my  anfwer. 

C  3  BaJ. 


54  Merchant  ^/Venicc.^ 

Bo.ff.  Do  rJI  men  kill  the  thing  they  do  not  love  r 
^hy.  Hates  any  man  the  thing  he  would  not  kill  ? 
Bajf.  Ev'ry  oiFence  is  not  a  hate  at  firil. 
Uhy.  What  would' ii  thou  have  a  ferpent  fting  thee 
twice  ? 

Ant.  I  pray  you  think  you  queftion  with  a  Jevo^ 
You  may  as  well  go  fland  upon  the  beach, 
-And  bid  the  main  ilood  bate  his  ufual  height, 
*  You  may  as  well  ufe  queition  with  the  wolf. 
Why  he  hath  made  the  ewe  bleat  for  th-c  lamb  ? 
You  may  as  well  forbid  the  mountain-pines 
To  wag  their  high  tops,  and  to  mal^e  no  noife 
When  they  are  fretted  with  the  gulls  of  heav'n. 
Ycu  may  as  well  do  any  thing  moft  hard, 
i^s  feek  to  foften  that  (than  which  what's  harder?) 
His  Jen.*j[fh  heart.    Therefore  I  do  befeech  you# 
Make  no  more  offers,  ufe  no  farther  means. 
But  with  all  brief  and  plain  conyeniency 
Let       ivave  jadga^ent,  and  the  Jc-jj  his  wii^. 

BaJf.  For  thy  three  thoufand  ducats  here  % 

Shy-,  If  evVy  ducat  in  fix  thoufand  ducats 
Were  in  fix  part?,  and  eVry  part  a  ducat, 
1  would  not  draw  them,  1  would  have  my  bond. 

Duke.  How  fhalt  thou  hope  for  mercy,  rendering 
none  ? 

.S^^'.  What  judgment  fhall  I  dre«d,  doing  nowTOng? 
Vou  have  among  you  many  a  purchased  llaye,^ 
W~hich,  like  your  affes  and  yoi'.r  dogs  and  mules, 
Ycu  ufe  in  abjecl  and  in  Caviin  part, 
Becaufe  ycu  bought  them.    Shall  I  fay  to  you, 
Let  them  be  free,  marry  them  to  your  heirs  ? 
Why  fweat  thy  under  burdens  r  let  their  beds 
Be  made  as  foft  as  yourSj  and  let  their  pallats 
Be  feafonM  with  fuch  yiands :  you  will  anfwej*^ 
The  flaves  are  ours.    So  do  I  anfwer  you. 
The  pound  of  flefh  which  I  demand  of  him 
Is  dearly  bought,  'tis  mine,  and  I  will  have  it. 
If  you  deny  me,  fie  upon  your  law. 
There  is  no  force  in  the  decrees  of  Venice: 
I  ftand  for  judgment anfwer ;  lhall  I  have  it  ? 

Duke. 

*  Tou  may  as  n^:ell  ufe  queftion  n^ith  the  ^olf, 

fhe  c^e  bkat  far  the  lanthj  )'qu  may  as  wdl^  &C* 


The  Merchant  of  Venice,     5  5 


Duke.  Upon  my  pow'r  I  may  difmifs  this  court, 
Unlefs  Bellarioy  a  learned  do6lor, 
Whom  I  have  fent  for  to  determine  this. 
Come  here  to-day. 

SaL  My  lord,'  here  flays  without 
A  meflenger  wich  letters  from  the  dodlor. 
New  come  from  Faduc, 

Duke.  Bring  us  the  letters,  call  the  meflertgers. 

Bajf.  Good  cheer,  Antho}:h\  what  man,  courage  yet 
The  Je^i:  fhall  have  my  fiefh,  blood,  bones,  and  all. 
Ere  thou  (halt  lofe  for  me  one  drop  of  Wood. 

Ant.  I  am  a  tahited  wether  of  the  flock, 
Meeteft  for  death  :  the  weakefl  kind  of  fruit 
Drops  earliefl:  to  the  ground,  and  fo  let  me. 
You  cannot  better  be  employ'd,  Bajfanio^ 
Than  to  live  iVi  11,  and  wiite  mine  epitaph. 

SCENE  II. 

Enter  Neriflk  Jiefidllh  a  La^juyers  Clerk. 

Duke,  Came  you  f:om  Padua,  from  Bellano  l 
Ner,  From  both,  my  lord  :  Bellario  greets  your  GvtczQ^ 
BaJf.  Why  doll  thou  whet  thy  knife  fo  earneftly  I 
Sby,  To  cut  the  forfeit  from  that  bankrupt^  there. 
Gra.  Not  on  thy  foul!  but  on  thy  foul,  harfli  Jc-ixr, 

Thou  mak'fl  thy  knife  keen  ;  for  no  metal  can, 

No  not  the  hangman's  ax,  bear  half  the  keenncfs 

Of  thy  fliarp  envy.    Can  no  prayers  pierce  thce.^ 
SJ?y^  No,  none  that  thou  haft  wit  enough  to  make* 
Gra.  O  be  thou  damn'd,  inexorable  dog. 

And  for  thy  life  let  juftice  be  accusM. 

Thou  almofl  mal^ft  me  waver  in  my  faith. 

To  hold  opinion  with  Pythagoras^ 

That  fouls  of  animals  infufe  themfelves 

Into  the  trunks  of  men.    Thy  currifli  fpirit 

Governed  a  wolf,  who  hangM  for  human  flaughtcr, 

Ev'n  from  the  gallows  did  his  fell  foul  fleet. 

And  whirfl  thou  lay'ft  in  thy  unhallow'd  dam, 

Infus'd  it  felf  in  thee  :  for  thy  defires 

Arewolfifli,  bloody,  flarvM,  and  ravenous. 

Shy.  'Till  thou  canft  rail  the  feal  from  oft'  my  bond;, 

Thou  but.offend'5:  thy  lungs  to  fpeak  fo  loud. 

I 


3  6      The  Merck  ant  of  Venice. 


Repair  thy  wit,  gocd  youth,  or  it  will  fall 
'I'o  carelcls  ruin.    I  ftand  here  for  law. 

Duke.  This  letter  from  Bcllarlo  doth  commend 
A  young  and  learned  dodor  in  our  court. 
Where  is  he  ? 

AV/ .  He  attcndeth  here  hard  by 
To  know  your  anfwer,  whether  you'll  admit  him? 

Duke.  With  all  my  heart.   Some  tliree  or  four  of  yon 
Go,  give  him  courteous  condud  to  this  place: 
?vlean  time  the  court  lliall  hear  Btl/ario's  kitcr, 

YOUR  Grace fr:all  nttderfiand^  that  at  the  receipt 
of  your  letter  y  I  cm  I'ery  fick :  hut  at  the  injlant 
that  your  mejfenger  camCy  in  lo  ving  njijitation  njcas  nvith 
we  a  young  do8or  of  Rome,  his  name  is  Balthafar:  / 
acquainted  him  ijoith  the  canfe  in  cofitrouerjie  hetiijeen 
the  Jew  and  Anthonio  the  merchant.  We  turnd  o*er 
many  looks  together:  he  is  funujhed  -ixith  7ny  opinion, 
i  jhich  bettered  ^vith  his  Qivn  learning,  ( the  greatnefs 
IV  he  reef  I  cannot  enough  commend , )  comes  ucith  him  at 
■m^  impcrtunityy  to  fAl  up  your  Grace's  requejl  in  my 
Jhad.  I  befetch  youy  let  his  lack  cf  years  he  no  impcdi- 
nient  to  let  him  lack  a  re^verend  ejli/nation  :  For  I  nc^jer 
knc^  fo  young  a  body  ^j^ith  fo  old  a  head,  I  league  him 
to  your  gracious  acceptance,  uuhofe  iryal  J!:all  better  pub- 
ijh  his  co?nmendation. 

Enter  Portia,  drefs'd  like  aDo6lor  of  La-jss, 

Duke.  You  hear  the  leani'd  Bcllario  what  he  writes. 
And  here,  I  take  it,  is  thedodlor  come: 
Give  me  your  hand.    Came  you  from  old  Bcllario  ? 

Per.  I  did,  my  lord. 

Duke,  You're  welcome :  take  your  place. 
Are  you  acquainted  with  the  difference 
That  holds  this  prefcnt  qaellion  in  the  court  } 

Por.  I  am  informed  tii roughly  of  the  cafe. 
Which  is  the  merchant  here?  and  which  the * 

Duke.  Anthonio  and  old 6'/^v/cci,  both  iland  forth. 

Por.  Is  your  name  Shylock  ? 

Shy.  Shylack  is  my  name. 

Por.  Of  a  ftrange  nature  is  th*e  fuit  you  follow, 
Yet  in  fuch  rule,  that  the  Fenetianhw 

Can- . 


The  Merchant  of  Y^mcc.  5 

Cannot  impugn  you,  as  you  do  proceed. 

You  ftand  within  his  danger,  do  you  not  ?    [To  Anth. 

^   ylnt.  Ay,  To  he  fays. 

Por,  Do  you  confefs  the  bond  ? 

Jnt.  I  do. 

Pgr.  Then  mull  the  J(nv  be  merciful. 

Sh)\  On  w  hat  compuifion  muft  I  ?  tell  me  that. 

*  Por.  The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  l^rain'd  ; 

*  It  droppeth  as  the  gentle  rain  frcnxheav'n 

*  Upon  the  place  beneath.    It  is  twice  blefs'd, 

'  It  blefleth  him  that  gives,  and  him  that  takes. 

*  'Tis  mightiell  in  the  mightiell,  it  becomes 

'  The  throned  monarch  better  than  his  crown  : 

*  His  fcepter  fliews  rhe  force  of  temporal  pow'r, 

*  The  attribute  to  awe  and  majefty, 

*  Wherein  doth  fit  the  dread  and  fear  of  Kings ; 

*  But  mercy  is  above  this  fcepter'd  fway, 
<  Ic  is  enthroned  in  the  hearts  of  Kings, 

*  It  is  an  attribute  to  God  himfelf ; 

*  And  earthly  power  doth  then  ihew  likeft  God's, 

*  When  mercy  fcafons  juitice.    Therefore,  y^av. 
The'  jaftice  be  thy  plea,  confider  this, 

That  in  the  courTe  of  juiUce  none  of  us 

Should  fee  falvation.    We  do  pray  for  mercy, 

And  that  fame  pray'r  doth  teach  us  all  to  render 

The  deeds  of  mercy.    I  have  fpoke  thus  much 

To  mitigate  the  juftice  of  thy  plea  ; 

Which  if  thou  follow,  this  Itrid  court  Venice 

Mull  needs  give  fentcnce  'gainit  the  merchant  there. 

Shy.  My  deeds  upon  my  head.    I  crave  the  law. 
The  penalty  and  forfeit  of  my  bond. 

Por.  Is  he  rot  able  to  difcharge  the  mony  ? 

Bajf^  Yes,  here  I  tender  it  for  him  in  the  court, 
Yea,  twice  the  fum  ;  if  that  will  not  fuffice, 
I  will  be  bound  to  pay 'it  ten  times  o'er, 
Oa  forfeit  of  my  hands,  .my  head,  my  heart. 
If  this  Will  not  I'uffice,  it  mull  appear 
That  malice  bears  down  truth.    And  I  befeech  you 
Wrell  once  th-e^aw  to  your  authority. 
To  do  a  great  right,  do  a  little  wrong, 
Ani  curb  this  cruel  devil  of  his  will. 

C  5 


$  8     The  Merchant  of  Venic?.^ 


Per.  It  muft  not  be,  there  is  no  pow'r  in  Venit^  ] 

Can  alter  a  decree  eftablilhed. 
'Twill  be  recorded  for  a  precedent, 
And  many  an  error  by  the  fame  example 
Will  rufh  into  the  ftate.    It  cannot  be. 

Shy.  A  haniel  come  to  judgment !  yea,  a  Daniet. 
O  wife* young  judge,  how  do  I  honour  thee  ! 
For.  I  pray  you  let  me  look  upon  the  bondi 
Sfy.  Here  'tis,  moft  rev'rend  dodlor,  here  it  is. 
For.  Shylock^  there's  thrice  thy  mony  offered  thee. 
Shy.  An  oath,  an  oath,  I  have  an  ©ath  in  heav*ik 
Shall  I  lay  perjury  upon  my  foul  ? 
Ko,  not  for  Venice. 

For.  Why,  this  bond  is  forfeit. 
And  lawfully  by  this  the  may  claim 

A  pound  of  flefh,  to  be  by  him  out  off 
Neareft  the  merchant's  heart.    Be  merciful. 
Take  thrice  the  mony,  bid  me  tear  the  bond. 

Shy.  When  it  is  paid  according  to  the  tenurfe. 
It  doth  appear  you  are  a  worthy  judge  ; 
You  know  the  law,  your  expofuion 
Hath  been  moft  found.    I  charge  you  by  the  law^ 
Whereof  you  are  a  well-deferving  pillar^ 
Proceed  to  judgment.    By  my  foul  I  fwean 
There  is  no  power  in  the  tongue  of  man 
To  alter  me.    I  ftay  here  on  my  bond. 

Ant.  Moft  heartily  I  do  befeech  the  court 
To  give  the  judgment. 

For.  Why  then  thus  it  is: 
You  muft  prepare  your  bofom  for  his  knife. 
Shy.  O  noble  judge!  O  excellent  young  man  ! 
For.  For  the  intent  and  purpofe  of  the  law 
Hath  full  relation  to  the  penalty. 
Which  here  appeareth  due  upon  the  bond. 

SJ?j.  'Tis  very  true.    O  wiie  and  upright  judgi?, 
How  much  more  elder  art  thou  than  thy  looks  ! 
For.  Therefore  lay  bare  your  bofom. 
Shy.  Ay,  his  breaft. 
So  fays  tV.e  bond,  doth  it  not,  nob^e  judge? 
Neareft  his  heart,  thofe  are  tLe  vtr/  words. 

F^r.  It  is  io.  Are  there  fcales  to  weigh  tie  ftefh  ? 
Shy.  I  have  ti&em  ready. 


Tfoe  Merchant  of  Venice'     5  9 

Por.  Have  by  fome  furgeon,  Shyloch,  cn  your  charge^^ . 
To  flop  his  wounds,  left  he  ftiould  bleed  to  death. 

Shy,  Is  it  fo  nominated  in  the  boud  ? 

For,  It  is  not  fo  exprefs'd ;  but  what  of  that  ? 
'Twere  good  you  do  fo  much  for  charity. 

Shy,  I  cannot  find  it,  'tis  not  in  the  bond. 

For.  Come,  merchant,  have  you  any  thing  to  fay  ^ 

Ant.  But  little :  I  am  arm'd  and  well  prepar'd. 
Give  me  your  hand,  Baffanio^  fare  you  wefi* 
Grieve  not  that  I  am  falPn  to  this  for  you : 
For  herein  fortune  fliews  her  felf  more  kind 
Than  is  her  cuftom.    It  is  ftill  her  ufe 
To  let  the  wretched  man  out-live  his  wealth. 
To  view  with  hollow  eye  and  wrinkled  brow 
An  age  of  poverty.    From  which  ling'ring  penance.- 
Offuch  a  mifery  doth  flie  cut  me  off. 
Commend  me  to  your  honourable  wife ; 
Tell  her  the  procefs  of-Anthonios  end  ; 
Say  how  I  lov'd  you  ;  fpeak  me  fair  in  death : 
And  when  the  tale  is  told,  hid  her  be  judge. 
Whether  Beffanio  \\zA  not  cnce  a  love. 
Repent  not  you  that  you  fhall  lofe  your  friend. 
And  he  repents  not  that  hfe  pays  your  debt ; 
For  if  the  Jenv  do  cut  but  deep  enough, 
lUl  pay  it  inftantly  with  all  my  heart. 

Bajf.  Anthonioy  I  am  married  to  a  wife 
Which  is  as  dear  to  me  as  life  it  felf; 
But  life  it  felf,  my  wife,  and  all  the  world, . 
Are  not  with  me  elleem'd  above  thy  life. . 
I  would  lofe  all,  ay  facrifice  them  all 
Here  to  this  devil,  to  deliver  you.* 

For,  Your  wife  would  give  you  little  thanks  for  that. 
If  (he  were  by  to  hear  you  make  the  offer. 

Gra,  I  have  a  wife  whom  I  protcfl  I  love, 
I  would  Ihe  were  in  heaven,  fo.  ihe  could 
Intreac  fomepow'r  to.  change  this  currilh  Jr-.f. 

Ner.  'Tis  well,  you  offer  it  behind  her  back. 
The  wifh  would  make  elfe  an  unquiet  houfe. 

Shy.  Thefebe  thechriftian  husbands.  Tve axlaughter. 
Would  any  of  the  flock  of  i?^;vY7Z^^j 
Had  been  her  husband,  rather  than  a  chpiftian !  ^Afide. 
We  trifle  time,  I'pray  thee  purfue  fcntcrvcc. 


6o     The  Merchant  of  Vamc^. 

For.  A  pound  of  that  fame  merchant's  flefh  is  thine. 
The  court  awards  it,  and  the  law  doth  give  it. 
Shy.  Moil  rightful  judge  ! 

For.  And  you  mull  cut  this  flefh  from  off  his  breail. 
The  law  allows  it,  and  the  court  awards  it. 

Shy.  Moll  learned  judge  !  afentence:  come,  prepare. 

Par.  Tarry  a  little,  there  is  fomethipgelfe. 
This  bond  doth  give  thee  here  no  jot  of  blood. 
The  words  exprefly  are  a  pound  of  flefi-i. 
Then  take  thy  bond,  take  thou  thy  pound  of  ffefh  ; 
But  in  the  cutting  it  if  thou  doll  fhed 
One  drop  of  chrillian  blood,  thy  lands  and  goods 
Are  by  the  laws  of  Venice  confifcate 
Unto  the  flate  of  Venice, 

Gra,  O  upright  judge  !  marky^at-,  O  learned  judge  ? 

Shy.  Is  that  the  law  .? 

For.  Thy  felf  flialt  fee  the  aft : 
For  as  thou  urgeH  juftice,  be  afTur'd 
Thou  fhalt  have  juilice,  more  than  thou  defir'ft. 

Gra.  O  learned  judge  !  mark  Je^i'^,  a  learned  judge  I 

Shy,  I  take  this  offer  then,  fay  the  bond  thrice. 
And  let  the  chriilian  go. 

Baf,  Here  is  the  mohy. 

For.  The  Jen.<o  ftiall  have  all  juflice  ;  foft,  no  halle> 
He  fhall  have  nothing  but  the  penalty. 

Gra.  O  Jen^u  !  an  apright  judge,  a  learned  judge  \ 

For.  Therefore  prepare  thee  to  cut  off  the  fltfli. 
Shed  thou  no  blood,  nor  cut  thou  lefs  nor  more 
But  jufl  a  pound  of  fiefh:  if  thou  tak'll  more 
Or  lefs  than  a  juil  pound,  be't  but  fo  m.uch 
As  makes  it  light  or  heavy  in  the  fubfTance, 
Or-  the  divifion  of  the  twentieth  part 
Of  one  poorfcruple;  nay,  if  the  kale  turn 
But  in  the  eftimation  of  a  hair, 
Thou  dieft,  and  all  thy  goods  are  confifcate. 

Gra.  A  fecond  Daniel,  a  Daniel,  J  civ. 
Now,  infidel,  I  have  thee  on  the  hip. 

For,  Why  doth  the  yeuj  paufe  ?  take  the  forfeiture. 

Shy.  Give  me  my  principal,  and  let  me  go. 

BaJ/^.  I  have  it  ready  for  thee ;  here  it  is. 

For.  He  hath  refus'd  it  in  the  open  court  ; 
He  fhall  have  meerly  jufiice  and  his  bond. 

Gra. 


The  Merchant    Venice.  6i 

Gra.  A  Daniel  iliil  fay  I,  a  fecond  Daniel! 
I  thank  thee,  Je^jL),  for  teaching  me  that  word.  / 

Shy,  Shall  I  not  barely  have  my  principal  ? 

Por.  Thou  fhak  have  nothing  but  the  forfeiiure. 
To  be  fo  taken  at  thy  peril,  Je^j, 

Shy.  Why  then  the  devil  give  him  good  of  iti  ] 
lUl  ftay  no  longer  queftion. 

Por,  Tarry,  Je-zv. 
The  law  hath  yet  another  hold  on  yoa;: 
It  is  enaded  in  the  laws  of  Venicey, 
If  it  be  prov'd  againft  an  alien. 
That  by  dired  or  indired  attempts 
He  feek  the  life  of  any  citizen. 
The  party  'gainft  the  which  he  doth  contrive 
Shall  feize  on  half  his  goods,  the  other  half 
Comes  to  the  privy  coffer  of  the  ftate ; 
And  the  offender's  life  lies  in  the  mercy 
Of  the  Duke  only,  'gainft  all  other  voice  : 
In  which  predicament  I  fay  thou  ftand'ft. 
For  it  appears  by  manifeft  proceeding. 
That  iadiredlly,  and  diredly  too, 
Thou  haft  contrived  againft  the  very  life 
Of  the  defendant  \  and  thou  haft  incurred 
The  danger  formerly  by  me  rehearsed. 
Down  therefore,  and  beg  mercy  of  the  Duke, 

Gra*  Beg  that  thou  may*ft  have  leave  to  hang  thy 
felf; 

And  yet  thy  wealth  being  forfeit  to  the  ftate, 
Thou  haft  not  left  the  value  of  a  cordp 
Therefore  thou  maft  be  hang'd  at  the  ftate's  charge. 

Duke,  That  thou  may'ft  fee  the  difT  rence  of  our  fpirit, 
I  pardon  thee  thy  life  before  thou  ask  it : 
For  half  thy  wealth,  it  is  Anthonio\ ; 
The  other  half  comes  to  the  general  ftate. 
Which  humbleneft  may  drive  unto  a  fine. 

Por.  Ay  for  the  ftate,  not  for  Anthonio. 

Shy,  Nay  take  my  life  and  all,  pardon  not  that. 
You  take  my  houfe  when  you  do  take  the  prop 
That  doth  fuftain  my  houfe :  you  take  my  life 
When  you  do  take  the  means  whereby  I  live. 

Por.  What  mercy  can  you  render  him^  Anthonio  ? 

Gra, 


€z      The  Merthant  of  Venice: 

Gra,  A  \i^\ttr  gratis,  nothing  el fe  for  God's  fake.' - 

Ant.  So  pleafe  my  lord  the  Duke,  and  all  the  court*  • 
To  quit  the  £ne  for  one  half  of  his  goods, 
r  am  content ;  fo  he  will  let  me  have 
The  other  half  in  ufe,  to  render  it 
Upoa  his  death  unto  the  gentleman 
That  lately  ftole  his  daughter. 
Two  things  provided  more,  that  for  this  favour 
He  prefently  become  a  chriftian  ; 
The  other,  that  he  do  record  a  gift 
Here  in  the  court,  of  all  he  dies  poffefs'd. 
Unto  his  fon  Lorenzo  and  his  daughter. 

Duke.  He  ihall  do  this,  or  elfe  I  do  recant 
The  pardon  that  I  late  pronounced  here. 

For.  Art  thou  contented,  Je^  f  whatdoft  thou  lay  ? 

Shy.  I  am  content. 

For.  Clerk,  draw  a  deed  of  gift. 

Shy.  I  pray  you  give  me  leave  to  go  fron^.  hence  f 
I  am  not  well;  fend  the  deed  after  me. 
And  I  will  fign  it. 

Duke.  Get  thee  gone,  but  do  it. 

Gra.  In  chriil'ning  thou  fhalt  have  two  godfathers. 
Had  I  been  judge,  thou  Ihould'il  have  had  ten  more, , 
To  bring  thee  to  the  gallows,  not  the  font. 

[Exit  Shylock. 

Duke.  Sir,  I  intreat  you  home  with  me  to  dinner. 

For,  I  humbly  do  defire  your  Grace  of  pardon ; 
I  muft  away  this  night  to  Fadua^ 
And  it  is  meet  I  prefently  fet  forth. 

Duke.  Tm  forry  that  your  leifure  fcrves  you  not, 
Anthonioy  gratify  this  gentleman. 
For  in  my  mind  you  are  much  bound  to  him. 

\Ex,T>\^^  and  his  train »: 

SCENE  III. 

^aJT.  Moft  worthy  gentleman  !  I  and  my  frknd  . 
Haveoy  your  wifdom  been  this  day  acquitted 
©f  grievous  penalties,  in  lieu  whereof 
Three  thoufand  ducats  due  unto  they^ai; 
We  freely  cope  your  courteous  pains  withaL 

Ant.  And  itand  indebted  over  and  above 
In  leve  and  fervicc  to  you  evermore. 


The  Merchant    Venice.  6i 

For,  He  is  wfll  paid  that  is  well  fatisfy'd, 
And  I  delivering  you  am  fatisfy'd. 
And  therein  do  account  my  felf  well  paid  ; 
My  mind  was  never  yet  more  mercenary. 
I  pray  you  know  me  when  we  meet  ^gain, 
I  wifh  you  well,  and  fo  I  take  my  leave. 

Ba//".  Dear  Sir,  of  force  I  muft  attempt  you  further. 
Take  fome  remembrance  of  us  for  a  tribute. 
Not  as  a  fee :  grant  me  two  things ;  I  pray  you 
Not  to  deny  me,  and  to  pardon  me. 

For.  You  prefs  me  far,,  and  therefore  I  will  yield. 
Give  me  your  gloves,  Fll  wear  them  for  your  fake. 
And  for  your  love  I'll  take  this  ring  from  you. 
i)o  not  draw  back  your  hand,  I'll  take  no  more. 
And  you  in  love  fhall  not  deny  me  this. 

Baf.  This  ring,  good  Sir,  alas  it  is  a  trifle ; 
I  will  not  fhame  my  felf  to  give  you  this. 

Psr.  I  will  have  nothing  elfe  but  only  this. 
And  now  methinks  I  have  a  mind  to  it. 

BaJ\  There's  more  than  this  depends  upon  the  value. 
The  deareft  ring  in  Femce  will  I  give  you. 
And  find  it  out  by  proclamation  ; 
Only  for  this  I  pray  you  pardon  me. 

For.  I  fee.  Sir,  you  are  liberal  in  ofFers ; 
You  taught  me  firll  to  beg,  and  now  methinks 
You  teach  me  how  a  beggar  fliouldbe  anfwer'd* 

Ba//".  Good  Sir,  this  ring  was  giv'n  me  by  my  wife. 
And  when  fhe  put  it  on,  Ihe  made  me  vow 
That  I  fliould  neither  fell;,  nor  giv«,  nor  lofe  it.  ^ 

Pof\  That  'fcufe  ferves  many  men  to  fave  their  gifts  ? 
And  if  your  wife  be  not  a  mad  woman. 
And  know  how  well  I  have  deferv'd  the  ring. 
She  wou'd  not  hold  out  enmity  for  ever 
Forgiving  it  to  me.  Well,  peace  be  with  you.  [Exitm 

Jnth.  Kly  lord  Bajffanio  let  him  have  the  ring, 
Let  his  defervings  and  nly  love  withal 
Be  valu'd.'gainll  your  wile's  commandement. 

Baff,  Go,  Gratianoy  run  and  overtake  him. 
Give  him  the  ring,  and  bring  him.  if  thou  caaM 
Unto  Anthonio\  houfe  :  away,  make  hafle.  \^Exit  Craw 
Coxsie,  you  ^nd  I  willUiither  prcfemly, 

Aud. 

1 


^4     2"^^  Merchant  of  Venice. 

And  in  the  morning  early  will  we  boA 
Y\yX,0'^2sdL  Belmont  y  come,  Anthonio,  {Exeunfv  . 

Enter  Portia  and  Nerifla. 

Tor.  Enquire  theJ^Tt's  hcufe  out,  give  him  thisdeed. 
And  let  him  fign  it ;  we'll  away  to-night. 
And  be  a  day  before  our  husbands  home : 
This  deed  will  be  well  welcome  to  Lorenzo. 

Enter  Gratiano. 

Gra>  Fair  Sir,  you  are  well  o'erta'en: 
My  lord  Baffanioy  upon  more  advice, 
Hath  fent  you  here  this  ring,  and  doth  intre-at 
Your  company  at  dinner. 

P^r.  That  cannot  be. 
This  ring  I  do  accept  moll  thankfully, 
And  fol  pray  you  tell  him:  furthermore,. 
I  pray  you  fliew  my  Youth  old  Shyloc/Cs  honfe. 

Gra.  That  will  I  do. 

Ner.  Sir,  I  would  fpeak  with  you. 
ril  fee  if  I  can  get  my  husband's  ring,  [To  For- 

Which  I  did  make  him  fwear  to  keep  for  ever. 

For,  Thou  may'ft,  I  warrant.    We  (hall  have  old 
fwcaring, 

That  they  did  give  the  rings  away  to  men  ; 
But  we'll  out-face  them  and  out-mear  them  too. 
Away,  make  hafte,  thou  know'H  where  I  will  tarrv'. 
Ner.  Come>  good  Sir,  will  you  fliew  me  to  this 
houfe  ?  [Exeunt. 


ACT    V.    S  C      N  E  L 

BELMONT, 
Enter  Lorenzo  and  Jeffica. 
Lorenzo. 

TH  E  moon  Ihines  bright :  In  fuch  a  night  as  this. 
When  the  fweet  wind  did  gently  kife  the  trees^ 
And  they  did  make  no  noife ;  in  fuch  a  night 
Troylus  methinks  mounted  the  Trojan  wall 
Andfigh'dhi5  foul  tow^d  the  Grecian  tents. 
Wkere  Cre£eid  lay  that  ni^ht. 


The  Merchant  ^/Venice.     6  5 


Jef.  In  fuch  a  night, 
Did  Thisbe  iQ2si\A\y  o'er-trip  the  dew. 
And  faw  the  lion's  (hadow  ere  himfelf. 
And  ran  difmay'd  away. 

Lor.  In  fuch  a  night, 
Stood  Dido  with  a  willow  in  her  hand 
Upcn  the  wild  fea-banks,  and  waft  ker  love  . 
To  come  again  to  Carthage, 

Jef.  In  fuch  a  night, 
Medea  gather'd  the  enchanted  htrbs 
That  did  renew  old  JEfon. 

Lor.  In  fuch  a  night. 
Did  jeffica  ileal  from  the  wealthy  Jenj:, 
And  wi:h  an  unthrift  love  did  run  from  Vtnicey 
As  far  as  Belmont. 

Jef.  And  in  fuch  a  night. 
Did  youg  Lorenzo  fwear  he  lov'd  her  well. 
Stealing  her  foul  with  many  vows  of  faith. 
And  ne'er  a  true  one. 

Lor.  And  in  fuch  a  night. 
Did  pretty  Jefflca  (like  a  little  ffirew) 
Slander  her  love,  and  he  forgave  it  her. 

Jef  I  would  out-night  you,  did  no  body  come  : 
But  hark,  I  hear  the  footing  of  a  man. 

Enter  Meffenger. 

Lor.  Who  comes  fo  fall  in  filence  of  the  night? 

Mcf  A  friend. 

Lor.  What  friend  ?  your  name;  I  pray  you,  friend? 

Trief.  Stephano  is  my  name,,  and  I  bring  word 
My  miftrefs  will  before  the  break  of  day 
Be  here  at  Bclmoyit:  fhe  doth  llray  about 
By  holy  erodes,  where  Ihe  kneels  and  prays 
For  happy  wedlock  hours. 

Lor.  Who  comes  with  her  \ 

Mef  None  but  a  holy  hermit  and  her  maid. 
I  pray  you,  is  my  mailer  yet  return'd  ? 

Lor.  He  is  not,  nor  have  we  ye:  heard  from  him* 
But  go  we  in,  I  pray  thee,  Jejica, 
And  ceremonioufly  let  us  prepare 
Some  welcome  for  the  m.iftreis  of  the  houfe.. 

Enter  Launcelot. 

Lann.  Sola,  fola  ;  wa  ha,  ho,  fola,  fola, 

L09: 


66      The  Merchant  of  Venice. 

Lor.  Who  calls  ? 

Laun,  Sola,  did  you  fee  matter  Lorenzo  and  niiftreft 
Loren^a  ?  fola,  fola. 

Lor.  Leave  hollowing,  man :  here. 
Laun,  Sola,  where  ?  where  ? 
Lor,  Hefe. 

Laun.  Tell  him  there's  a  poft  come  from  my  raa- 
fter,  with  his  horn  full  of  good  news.  My  mailer  Will  be 
here  ere  morning. 

Lor,  Sweet  love,  let's  in,  and  there  expeft  their 
coming. 

And  yet  no  matter  :  why  fhould  We  go  in  ? 
My  friend  Stephana,  fignifie,  I  pray  you. 
Within  the  houfe  your  miftrefs  is  at  hand, 
Ap.d  bring  your  mufiek  forth  into  the  air. 

*  How  fweet  the  moon-light  fleeps  upon  this  bank  i 

*  Here  will  we  fit,  and  let  the  founds  of  mufick 

*  Creep  in  our  ears;  foft  flillnefs,  and  the  night 

*  Become  the  touches  of  fweet  harmony. 

^  ^>  jefficai  look  h6\v  the  floor  of  heav'jft 

*  Is  thick  inlay'd  with  patterns  of  bright  gold  5 

*  There's  not  the  fmalleft  orb  which  thou  behold'ft, 

*  But  in  his  motion  like  an  angel  fings, 

*  Still  quiring  to  the  young-ey'd  cherubims ; 

*  Such  harmony  is  in  immortal  fouls  ^ 

*  But  whilft  this  muddy  vefture  of  decay? 

*  Doth  grofly  clofe  us  in,  we  cannot  hear  it. 
Come  ho,  and  wake  Diana  with  a  hymn. 
With  fweeteft  touches  pierce  your  miftrefs'  ear. 
And  draw  her  home  with  mufick. 

Jef.  I'm  never  merry  when  1  hear  fweet  mulicl^ 
Mufick. 

*  tor.  The  reafon  is,  your  fpirits  are  attentive ; 

*  For  do  but  note  a  wild  and  wanton  herd, 

'  Or  race  of  youthful  and  unhandled  colts, 

?  Fetching  mad  bounds,  bellowing  and  neighing  loud^ 

*  (Which  is  the  hot  condition  of  their  blood) 

*  If  they  perchance  but  hear  a  trumpet  found, 

*  Or  any  air  of  mufick  touch  their  ears, 

*  You  fhall  perceive  them  make  a  mutual  ftand  j 

*  Their  favage  eyes  turn'd  to  a  modeft  gaze 

^  By  the  fweet  power  of  mufick.   Thijs  the  Poet 

*  Did 


The  Merchant  ^/Venice.  6f 

^  Did  feign  that  Orpheus  drew  trees,  ftones,  and  floods  5 
'  Since  nought  fo  ilockifh,  hard  and  full  cff  rage, 

*  But  mufick  for  the  time  doth  change  his  nature. 
^  I'he  man  that  hath  no  mufick  in  himfelf, 

*  And  is  not  mov'd  with  concord  of  fwcet  founds^ 

*  Is  fit  for  trcafons,  flratagems,  and  fpoils ; 

*  the  motions  of  his  fpirit  are  dull  as  night, 

*  And  his  afFedions  dark  as  Erebus  : 

*  Let  no  fuch  jpan  be  trufted— Mark  the  mufick. 

Enier  Portia  rf^/^Neriffa 

Por,  That  light  we  fee  is  burning  in  my  hall : 
How  far  that  littk  candle  throws  his  beams ! 
So  ihines  a  good  deed  in  a  naughty  world. 

Ner,  When  the  moon  Ihone  we  did  not  fee  the  caridt^. 

Per.  So  doth  the  greater  glory  dim  the  Icfs; 
A  fahftitute  fhines  brightly  as  a  King 
Until  a  King  be  by ;  and  then  his  ilate 
Empties  it  felf,  as  doth  aiJ  inland  broofc- 
Into  the  main  of  waters.    Mufick,  hark !  [A/iw/J^*, 

Ner,  It  is  the  mufick,  madam,  of  your  houfe. 

Por.  Nothing  is  good,  I  fee,  without  refped : 
Methinks  it  founds  much  fweeter  than  by  day. 

Ner,  Silence  beftows  the  virtue  on  it,  mad^m, 

Por,  The  crow  doth  fmg  as  fweetly  as  thelark. 
When  neither  is  attended  ;  and  I  think 
The  nightingale,  if  fhe  Ihould  fing  by  day. 
When  every  goofe  is  cackling,  would  be  thought 
No  bctt<?r  a  mufician  than  the  wren. 
How  many  things  by  feafen  feafon'd'  are 
To  their  right  praife  and  true  perfection  ^ 
Peace  !  how  the  moon  fleeps  with  Enditrtwiy 
And  would  not  be  awaked  ! 

Mufick  ceafes. 

Lor,  That  is  the  voice. 
Or  lam  much  deceived,  ciPortta, 
Por,  He  knows  me  as  the  blind  man  knows  the 
cuckow. 
By  the  bad  voice. 

Lor,  Dear  lady,  welcome  home* 
Por,  We  have  been  praying  for  our  husbands  healths, 

Which 


6$      The  Merchant  ^/Venice. 

Which  fpeed,  we  hope,  the  better  for  our  worcU,  , 
Are  they  return'd? 

Lor^  Madam,  they  are  not  yet ; 
But  there  is  come  a  meilenger  before. 
To  fignifie  their  coming. 

Per,  Go  NeriJ/uy 
Give  order  to  my  fervants,  that  they  take 
No  note  at  all  of  our  being  abfent  hence. 
Nor  you  Lorenzo,  J^IP^^  ^^or  you. 

A  tucket  founds. 

Lor,  Your  husband  is  at  hand,  I  hear  his  trumpet  : 
We  are  no  tell-tales,  madam,  fear  you  not. 

For,  This  night  methinks  is  but  the  day -light  fick  ; 
It  looks  a  little  paler  j  ^tis  a  day, 
S^ei  as  the  day  is  when  the  fun  is  hid. 
Enter  Baffanio,  Anthonio,  Gratiano,  and  their fol!j^j:ers> 

Ba/f,  We  fhoujd  hold  day  v/ith  the  Antipdesy 
If  you  would  walk  in  abfence  of  the  fun. 

Bcr.  Let  me  give  light,  but  let  me  not  be  light ; 
For  a  light  wife  doth  make  a  heavy  husband. 
And  never  be  Baffanio  fo  from  me  ;  j 
But  Gcd  fort  all :  you're  welcome  home,  my  lord. 

j5^L thank  you,  madam  :  give  welcome  to  my  friend  ? 
This  is  the  man,  this  is  Anthonioy 
To  whom  I  am  fo  infinitely  bound. 

For,  You  fhould  in  all  fenfe  be  much  bound  to  him; 
For  as  I  hear  he  was  much  bound  for  you. 

Anth.  No  more  than  I  am  v/ell  acquitted  of. 

For.  Sir,  you  are  very  welcome  to  our  houfe ; 
It  muft  appear  in  other  ways  than  words  r. 
Therefore  I  ^cant  this  breathing  courtefie. 

Gra,  By  yonder  moon  I  fv/ear  you  do  me  wrong ; 
In  faith  I  gave  it  to  the  judge's  clerk.        \fto  Ncrifta. 
Would  he  were  gelt  that  had  it  for  my  part. 
Since  )rou  do  take  it,  love,  fo  much  at  heart. 

Par.  A  quarrel,  hoe,  already !  what's  the  matter  ? 

Grcti  About  a  hoop  of  gold,  a  paltry  ring 
That  (he  did  give  me,  whofe  poefie  was 
For  all  the  world  like  cutler's  poetry 
Upon  a  knife  ;  Lonje  me,  and  lea^e  me  not, 

Ner.  What  talk  you  of  the  poefie  or  the  value  ? 

You  \ 


The  Merchant  of  Venice/  69 


You  fwore  to  me  when  I  did  give  it  you. 
That  yoa  wouM  wear  it  'till  your  hour  of  death. 
And  that  it  Ihould  lie  with  you  in  your  grave  : 
Tho'  not  for  me,  yet  for  your  vehement  oaths, 
You  fhould  have  been  refpe6tive,  and  have  kept  it. 
Gave  it  a  Judge's  clerk  f  but  well  I  know 
The  clerk  will  ne'er  wear  hair  on's  face  that  had  it* 
Gra.  He  will,  an  if  he  live  to  be  a  man. 
ISer.  Ay,  if  a  woman  live  to  be  a  man. 

Gra.  Now  by  this  hand  I  gave  it  to  a  youth,^ 
A  kind  of  boy,  a  little  fcrubbed  boy, 
No  higher  than  thy  felf,  the  Judge's  clerk, 
A  prating  boy  that  begg'd  it  as  a  fee  : 
I  could  not  for  my  heart  deny  it  him. 

Fcr,  You  were  to  blame,  \  mull  be  plain  with  you 3 
To  part  fo  (lightly  with  your  wife's  firft  gift, 
A  thing  ftuck  on  with  oaths  upon  your  finger. 
And  riveted  with  faith  unto  your  flefh. 
I  gave  my  love  a  ring,  and  made'liim  fwear 
Never  to  part  with  it ;  and  here  he  ftands, 
I  dare  be  fworn  for  him,  he  would  not  leave  it. 
Nor  pluck  it  from  his  finger,  for  the  wealth 
That  the  world  mafters.    Now  in  faith,  GratianOy 
You  give  your  wife  too  unkind  a  caufe  of  grief ; 
An  'twere  to  me  I  fhould  be  mad  at  it. 

Bajf.  Why  I  were  beil  to  cut  my  left  hand  off, 
And  fwear  I  loft  the  ring  defending  it. 

Gra.  My  lord  Bajjfanio  gave  his  ring  away 
Unto  the  Judge  that  begg'd  it,  and  indeed 
Deferv'd  it  too ;  and  then  the  boy,  his  cletk. 
That  took  fomc  pams  in  writing,  he  begg'd  mine. 
And  neither  man  nor  mafter  would  take  aught 
But  thp  two  rings. 

For.  What  ring  gave  you^  my  lord  ? 
Not  that  I  hope  which  you  received  of  me. 

B^^JJ^.  If  I  could  add  a  lye  unto  a  fault, 
I  would  deny  it ;  but  you  fee  my  finger 
Hath  not  the  ring  upon  it,  it  is  gone. 

For.  Even  fo  void  is  your  falfe  heart  of  truth. 
By  heaven,  I  will  ne'er  come  in  your  bed 
Until  I  fee  the  ring. 

Ner,  Nor  I  in  yours  'cill  I  again  fee  mine 

BaJ.  ^ 


7^      T^he  Merchant  ofS^x^^. 


Bajf.  Sweet  Portia, 
If  you  did  know  to  whom  I  gave  the  ring, 
If  you  did  know  for  whom  I  gave  the  ring, 
And.  would  conceive  for  what  I  gave  the  ring;, 
And  how  unwillingly  I  left  the  ring. 
When  nought  would  be  accepted  but  the  ring, 
You  would  abate  the  llrength  of  your  difpleafure^ 

P<^r.  If  you  had  known  the  virtue  of  the  ring. 
Or  half  her  worthinefs  that  gave  the  ring, 
Or  your  own  honour  to  retain  the  ring. 
You  would  not  then  have  parted  with  the  ring. 
What  man  is  there  fo  much  unreafonable. 
If  you  had  pleasM  to  have  defended  it 
With  any  terms  of  zeal,  wanted  the  modefiy 
To  urge  the  thing  held  as  a  ceremony  ? 
Nerija  teaches  me  what  to  believe ; 
ni  die  for't,  but  fome  woman  had  the  ring. 

Bajf,  No,  by  miiie  honour,  madam,  by  my  foul. 
No  woman  had  it,  ^but  a  civil  dodor. 
Who  did  refufe  three  thoufand  ducats  »f  me. 
And  begg'd  the  ring  ;  the  which  I  did  deny  him. 
And  fuifer'd  him  to  go  difplcas'd  away ; 
Ev'n  he  that  did  upiiold  the  very  lite 
Of  my  dear  friend.    What  fhould  I  fay,  fweet  lady  ? 
I  was  enfcrcM  to  fend  it  after  him  : 
1  was  befet  with  fliame  and  courtefie ; 
My  honour  would  not  let  ingratitude 
So  much  befmcar  it.    Pardon  me,  good  lady. 
And  by  thefe  bk  ned  candles  of  the  night. 
Had  you  been  there,  I  think  you  would  have  begg'd  ' 
The  ring  of  me  to^ive  the  worthy  dodor. 

Por.  Let  not  that  dodlor  e'er  come  near  my  houfe. 
Since  he  hath  got  the  jewel  that  I  lov'd. 
And  that  which  you  did  fwear  to  keep  for  me  : 
I  will  become  as  liberal  as  you, 
I'll  not  deny  him  any  thing  I  have, 
No,  not  my  body,  nor  my  husband's  bed ; 
Know  him  I  fhall,  I  am  well  fure  of  it. 
Lie  not  a  night  from  home ;  watch  me  like  Arusi 
IF  you  do  not,  if  I  be  left  alone, 
^ow  by  mine  honour,  which  is  yet  mire  cwn^ 
rU  have  that  d©6lor  fgr  my  bedfellow. 


The  Merchant  of  Venice.     7 1 

T^er.  And  I  his  clerk  ;  therefore  be  well  advis'd 
How  you  do  leave  me  to  mine  own  protedion. 

Gra.  Well,  do  you  fo ;  let  me  not  take  him  then ; 
For  if  I  do,  I'll  mar  the  young  clerk's  pen. 

Afit,  I  am  th'  unhappy  lubject  of  cheie  quarrels. 

For,  Sir,  grieve  not  you,  you  are  welcome  nofc. 
withftanding. 

Bajf.  Portia,  forgive  me  this  enforced  wrong. 
And  in  the  hearing  of  thefe  many  friends, 
I  fwear  to  thee,  cv'n  by  thine  own  fair  eyes. 
Wherein  I  fee  my  felf— — 

For,  Mark  you  but  that ! 
In  both  mine  eyes  he  doubly  fees  himfelf, 
Jn  each  eye  one  ;  fwear  by  your  double  felf. 
And  there's  an  oath  of  credit ! 

BaJf.  Nay,  but  hear  me : 
Pardon  this  fault,  and  by  my  foul  I  fwear, 
I  never  more  will  break  an  oath  with  thee. 

j^nt,  I  once  did  lend  my  body  for  his  wealth. 
Which  but  for  him  that  had  your  husband's  ring 

[To  Fortia, 

Had  quite  mifcarry'd.    I  dare  be  bound  again. 
My  foul  upon  the  forfeit,  that  your  lord 
Will  never  more  break  faith  advifedly. 

For,  Then  you  fhall  be  his  furety  ;  give  him  this. 
And  bid  him  keep  it  better  than  the  other. 

Ant.  Here  lord  Bajfanioy  fwear  to  keep  this  ring. 

B^JT'  By  ^eav'ii  it  is  the  fame  I  gave  the  do£lop. 

For,  I  had  it  of  him  :  pardon  me,  Bajfanio ; 
For  by  this  ring  the  dodlor  lay  with  me. 

Ner,^  And  pardon  me,  my  gentle  Gratiana^ 
For  that  fame  fcrubbed  boy,  the  doctor's  clerk. 
In  lieu  of  this,  lail  night  did  lie  with  mc. 

Gra.  Why,  this  is  like  the  mending  of  highways 
In  fummer,  where  the  ways  are  fair  enough  : 
What,  are  we  cuckolds  ere  we  have  deferv'd  it? 

For.  Speak  not  fo  grofly;  you  are  all  ama2.*d; 
Here  is  a  ktter,  read  it  at  your  leifure ; 
It  comes  from  Padua  from  Beslario: 
There  you  fliall  find  that  Portia  was  the  doftor, 
Verijfa  there  her  clerk.    Lorcnxjo  here, 
Shall  wiaiefs  I  kt  forth  as  foon  as  you, 

And 


72     The  Merchant  ^/Venice. 

And  even  but  now  returned  :  I  have  not  yet 
EnterM  my  houfe.    Anthonioy  you  are  welcome. 
And  I  have  better  news  in  flore  for  you 
Than  you  exped  ;  uRfeal  this  letter  foon. 
There  you  fhall  find  three  of  your  Argofies 
Are  richly  come  to  harbour  fuddenly, 
You  fliall  not  know  by  what  ftrange  accident 
I  chanced  on  this  letter. 
Ant.  I  am  dumb. 

Bajf.  Were  you  the  do£lor,  and  I  knew  you  not  ? 

Gra.  Were  you  the  clerk  that  is  to  make  me  cuckold  r 

Ner.  Ay,  but  the  clerk' that  never  means  to  do  it, 
Unlefs  he  live  until  he  be  a  m.an. 

BaJf.  Sweet  dodor,  you  fhall  be  my  bedfellow ; 
When  I  amabfent,  then  lie  with  my  wife. 

Ant.  Sweet  lady,  you  have  giv'n  me  life  and  liv^ing  ? 
For  here  I  read  for  certain,  that  my  Ihips 
Are  faifely  come  to  road. 

For.  How  now,  Lorenzo  P 
My  clerk  hath  fome  good  comforts  too  for  you. 

Ner,  Ay,  and  Til  give  them  him  without  a  fee. 
There  do  I  give  to  you  and  JcJJjca, 
From  the  rich  Jc^jjy  a  fpecial  deed  of  gift. 
After  his  death,  of  all  he  dies  poffefsM  of 

Lor.  Fair  ladies,  you  drop  Manna  in  the  way 
Of  flarved  people. 

For.  It  is  almoft  morning. 
And  yet  Tm  fure  you  are  not  fatisfy'd 
Of  thefe  events  at  full.    Let  us  go  in, 
And  charge  us  there  cn  interrogatories. 
And  we  will  anfwer  all  things  faithfully. 

Gra.  Let  it  be  fo  :  the  full  interrogatory 
That  my  Nerijfa  fhall  be  fworn  on,  is, 
Whether 'till  the  next  night  (he  had  rather  flay. 
Or  go  to  bed,  now  being  two  hours  to  day. 
But  were  the  day  come,  I  fhculd  wifh  it  dark, 
'Till  I  were  couching  with  the  dodtor's  clerk. 
Well,  while  I  live,  ril  fear  no  other  thing 
So  fore,  as  keeping  fafe  Nrrijas  ring. 

\^Epceu?Ji  cmnes. 

FINIS. 


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